It has got to the point where my early twenties have become so surreal, that when it was announced Something You Are was nominated for the CWA John Creasey Dagger Award, my parents and I almost just shrugged and smiled. It took a good month or so for the gravity of the nomination to sink in, and now I wish it hadn't because for the last couple of weeks I've turned into a walking panic attack with the attention span of a coked-up hamster.
There is also the added pressure of the televised awards ceremony itself, which raises a myriad of important questions. Do I practise my 'magnanimous loser clap' in the mirror, or scribble down a list of names so that I don't forget to thank my mum? Do I risk knocking-back a few pre-awards shots to steady my nerves if it may later result in a public face-plant if I'm required to make my way to the stage in ridiculous heels? All of the above, I think.
I'm immensely honoured to be nominated, and nominated so young, though I am worried that when I get to the Grosvenor I'll either be handed an apron and mistakenly drafted into catering, or directed to the hotel creche with a colouring book. It is sure to be extremely fun, whatever happens. I'll try to resist the urge to get inappropriately hammered and smell David Tennant's hair in passing.