'Mr Tweed said that Outlanders have to stick together,' continued Heep, 'and look after each other. Outlanders have a duty—'

'This is all really very sweet of him,' I interrupted, 'but I can look after myself. Good luck with your award; I'm sure you'll win.'

'Thank you!' he said, fidgeting for a moment before moving off a little way and continuing to stare at me in an unsubtle manner.

I was summoned towards the stage, where I could see the master of ceremonies winding up the previous award. He reminded me of Adrian Lush – all smiles, insincerity and bouffant hair.

'So,' he continued, ' "teleportation" a clear winner for the "Most Implausible Premise in an SF Novel" which was hard luck on "And they lived happily after" which won last year. If I could thank all the nominees and especially Ginger Hebblethwaite for presenting it.'

There was applause and a freckled youth in a flying jacket waved to the crowd and winked at me as he trotted offstage.

The MC took a deep breath and consulted his list. Unlike awards at home there was no TV coverage as no one in the BookWorld had a TV. You didn't need one. The Generics who had remained in the books as a skeleton staff to keep the stories in order were kept up to date with a live footnoterphone link from the Starlight Room. With all the usual characters away at the awards, fiction wasn't quite so good, but no one generally noticed. This was often the reason why people in the Outland argued over the quality of a recommended book. They had read it during the Bookies.

'The next award, ladies, gentlemen and – er – things, is to be given by the newest Jurisfiction agent to join the ranks of the BookWorld's own policing agency. Fresh from a glittering career in the Outland and engineer of the improved ending to Jane Eyre, may I present – Thursday Next—!'

There was applause and I walked on, smiling dutifully. I air-kissed the MC and looked out into the auditorium.

It was vast. Really vast. The Starlight Room was the largest single function room ever described in any book. A lit candelabrum graced each of the hundred thousand tables, and as I looked into the room all I could see was a never-ending field of white lights, flickering in the distance like stars. Seven million characters were here tonight, but by using a very convenient temporal field displacement technology borrowed from the boys in the SF genre, everyone in the room had a table right next to the stage and could hear and see us with no problems at all.

'Good evening,' I said, staring out at the sea of faces, 'I am here to read the nominations and announce the winner of the "Best Chapter Opening in the English Language" category.'

I started to feel hot under the lights. I composed myself and read the back of the envelope.