Reader, I finished it.
The pen has been dropped, the printer is out of ink, and I don’t think my hands would let me type another word if I tried.
I’m back in Bath after handing it all in, and it feels surreal.
I stayed with Nina, a friend I met at uni, and we celebrated by dancing to ABBA, drinking prosecco, and making vegan cookies. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
I drove to Corsham Court to hand it into the uni drop box, making sure it was presented in pristine condition and that I’d filled out the correct course and the right details (knowing my luck I’d have put the wrong module number, or student reference).
I’d been in touch with some of my classmates and we all ended up meeting for a picnic before the ceremonial photo in front of the building and dropping our manuscripts off before heading to the pub! I don’t think I felt like I was sending my baby out into the real world.
It wasn’t perfect, and in places it was very rough, but it was a first draft novel. And what’s important, is I had finished it.
I’m heading back home to bask in my success before the job hunt and adult life seriously begins. That’s the bit I’m dreading most.
But I’m one chuffed writer. After the last few months of struggling to write paragraphs, I’m so pleased I managed to complete my manuscript and hand it in with my peers.
Now to celebrate properly back home in Leeds!
(And no, you can’t read it yet. I’ll let you know when it’s ready for eager eyes, don’t worry.)