On Thursday I had a meeting with my publishers.
After discovering it's actually a 1 min walk from the tube (not 15 mins like last time - how on earth did I manage that?) I entered the hallowed portals of Random House and sat in reception, grinning like a loon and trying to take in the fact I am now one of their authors and not an interloper.
I did my best not to giggle* in the meeting: though it's impossible to describe how surreal it feels to have a room full lovely people talking about schedules and plans for publication...for something I wrote sitting on my living-room sofa in my (decidedly ancient) pyjamas.
I have print-outs and bits of paper in my hand - and yet still can't believe that in just over three months time it is going to be a physical hold-in-your-hands-and-available-to-buy book.
Over the next couple of weeks the manuscript (must remember to call it the manuscript...) will be set onto pages and printed out for proof-reading. Perhaps when I have those here in front of me it will finally start to sink in that this is actually happening. And it will also remind me that sometimes, just sometimes, dreams really do come true.
*(and of course I giggled...)