Chapters (49)
- Cover
- Table of Contents
- Also by Graham Hurley
- LIMELIGHT
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- AFTERWARDS
The laughter is full-throated and deeply appreciative. The audience adores these gossipy delights, morsels from the feast that is London publishing, but tonight’s star is quick to marry them to a shrewd analysis of what makes a good book work. Sheer stamina, she insists, is a given in the world of any novelist. Writing a hundred thousand words isn’t a stroll around the block, and trying to get them all in the right order is a huge undertaking, but wrestling the damn thing to the mat isn’t all sweat and effort because greatness on the page demands submission to all kinds of strange alchemies. What keeps the reader desperate to find out what happens next doesn’t happen by accident and when she tells us that editing – helping the storyteller – can be a mystery as well as a pleasure, heads nod yet again.
This audience, or perhaps congregation, is wise and well-read enough to recognize sincerity as well as a lifetime’s uncontested achievement, and Evelyn’s final tribute to the men and women she’s accompanied to bestsellerdom sparks a standing ovation. Success, she says, can be a lottery but it’s her pleasure to confirm that talent – along with patience, fortitude, and sheer determination – will out.
This aperçu goes down better than well. Evelyn peers over her lectern at the ocean of beaming faces with relief as well as exultation, and then comes her surprise announcement. Her publisher, Hespera, has offered to sponsor a writing prize open to everyone for at least the next five years. In a nod to Hespera’s colophon, the prize will be known as the Golden Nymph, and at Evelyn’s suggestion entries will be limited to novellas only. The novella, I know, is a format she’s always loved and the news that the lucky winner will get a cheque for £10,000 brings the audience to their feet for a second time. These people, I realize, are canny as well as appreciative. A prize like this will give the festival – as well as Hespera – yet more profile.
The three of us are sitting in a reserved pew at the front of the church, and we’re more than happy to sit back and savour Evelyn’s moment of glory. Already, she’s taking questions from the audience, each one triggering another story, and I’m enjoying her account of a particularly vicious attack of writer’s block, when I catch McFaul’s eye.
What’s a novella? he mouths.