This week I went to the RNA Awards Ceremony as a nominee for Historical Romantic Novel. The Wicked Lady. It’s the first time I’ve been nominated, so I had no idea what to expect. I’d seen The BAFTAS on TV and I assumed that’s what it would be like.

It was. Pretty much. A really big glittering occasion and a real privilege to be there.

I think most nominees came up early, by train, and found a hotel. I’m lucky that one of my kids lives in London, so I had somewhere nice and familiar to stop. A small flat. A sleeping bag.

I got changed in the car on the way up, so I was hardly ready for the glamour of the event when I marched into the gorgeous sparkly hotel and asked where the bar was.

The ceremony was a bit like being at the BAFTAS because when I arrived, I knew so many authors’ faces from social media. They didn’t know me, of course, so I had to remind myself that I shouldn’t rush over and hug them and ask them how they were doing, because they’d have no clue who I was. I felt like a fan.

I got my lanyard – at least we could read who we all were now – and grabbed a Bucks fizz in a flute glass and sauntered into the room where all the other nominees had gathered for photos. I didn’t really know anyone. To be absolutely specific, I knew one person. She’s lovely. And talented. And she had an incredible dress on.

I found myself talking to two women who were really friendly, whom I didn’t know beforehand, but they knew of my books, which was an incredibly nice feeling. They were called Jane and Joy. They were both first-time nominees too, and we all agreed that we probably weren’t favourites to win anything. But, as I pointed out, we all had a one in five chance. And it was incredible just to be there, to be nominated. We talked novels and their books sounded wonderful. (Top of my TBR pile now.)

The room bustled with so much positive energy. There was a wealth of good writers, so much talent, so many wonderful books I hadn’t read. (In fact, I’d read five. I made a mental note to read the rest of them after the ceremony. They were all nominees, so their books would be fantastic.)

Joy and Jane were a great deal of fun and we were all very relaxed. We laughed a lot and we chatted to a friendly woman who was also a nominee, who said she’d won an award last year, and we ought to have a speech just in case. Of course, none of us had written anything.

I discovered, once the ceremony started, that most authors hadn’t prepared speeches. There’s a good psychological reason. I think we all believed that if we wrote a speech, we wouldn’t win. Somehow there’s an unspoken law of jeopardy or fate that says if we’ve prepared what to say, we won’t ever be asked up onto the stage to say it.

We sat down and sipped wine and listened to the organisers’ speeches, which were all inspirational and strong and beautifully prepared. Then the awards started, complete with someone saying, ‘And the winner is…’ and a drum roll.

It was, in fact, exactly like the BAFTAS. Better.

It was all about diverse authors and different categories and a huge pile of really exciting books, from a range of publishers and some even independently published, which was great to see. The whole event was so exciting.

I was sitting next to my wonderful agent, our brilliant editors, the fantastic team from Boldwood Books, other nominees, so I was very relaxed. All the other writers were really deserving people who’d written fascinating books, and I was sure they’d win. They deserved to.

One award followed another. No one had written a speech yet – we all clearly thought having something prepared would jinx our novels’ chances. But everyone spoke well, from the heart. With passion. They were true winners.

 My book, The Wicked Lady, would come up later in the proceedings, but I was wearing the cover design on my earrings and necklace. So I had prepared something, just in case.

Then came the award for the Historical Romantic Novel.

When my name was read out, I heard the whooping and the applause from around the room, and somehow I was suddenly on the stage holding this huge heavy glass award, and grinning.

Like everyone who’d gone before me – only one person had actually written a speech down – I did my best to improvise, to say what was in my heart. I think I thanked everyone and said I was a bit flabbergasted to win. I meant every word.

But I should have prepared. What I should have said was this:

It’s been an incredible journey to get this far.

It started six years ago, with a decision to write a novel. A desire to do my best work. To research. To do an MA.

Then the luck followed – all authors need a bit of luck. I have the best agent, whose integrity and judgement I trust completely.

I have the backing of the most skilful and wonderful editors who are magicians.

And an incredible, talented and imaginative publisher who is going from strength to strength. Who wins awards and always deserves acclaim.

I’ve written twenty-something books in three genres. I always have a lot of fun doing it. It’s a lot of work. I play around with lots of ideas. I invest a great deal of hope. I research and sometimes I fly by the seat of my pants. I laugh. I cry. But I love it. That’s life.

And I have to mention a huge bunch of writers, many published, some not, who inspire me each day, whose work I read all the time, who are deserving of praise and awards. Some are friends, some colleagues, some fellow writers. Some are people I’ll never meet.

And, so importantly, I have to thank the incredible readers, without whom there wouldn’t be a book to be read. A book without a reader is like a world without sunshine.

And the main reason we were there was the event itself. But the RNA aren’t just for one sparkling night. They are the champions of romance books who work tirelessly every day to promote novelists, all on so many different journeys, as we aspire, learn, develop, shine, and as we determine to make each book our best.

The RNA’s commitment and energy was tangible on the evening, but it was also an inspiration for all time after. The ceremony was so slick and professional, so enjoyable, with great food and wine and fizzingly wonderful speeches and glittering authors. It was a privilege to be there, to be involved as a small part of something really special.

And to get an award was the icing on the most wonderful cake.

Oh, and thanks to my partner, big G. And my kids. And my mum. She helped me from the word go. Always.

That’s what I should have said.

What I think I said was:

“IneverwinanythingsoabigthankstoyoualleveryoneohmygoodnessIneverexpectedthisdidi? thankyouthankyouthankyousomuch”

So, no. It won’t jinx anything to prepare a few well-chosen words, I tell myself, now I’ve done it. It will enable clarity. Common sense. And I wouldn’t have gone back to the table with a wide smile on my face hoping I hadn’t forgotten to mention someone or something really important.

The speech is the thing. I know that now.

And so here I am, back at home at the laptop, just a girl clutching a copy of The Wicked Lady, a Historical Romantic Novel, and an award she didn’t expect to get, who is truly very very happy to have been there.

(And just for the record, I met so many authors who were charming and nice and generous and so beautifully dressed. And Jane and Joy were great nominees – we will meet again at some point and continue the craic. I was privileged to meet them. Lovely ladies. And right at the end, Joy won an award too. And yes, her speech was off-the-scale good, and funny.)

(Although she didn’t write it down…)