And so, the long awaited day dawned of the announcement of the Man Booker longlist. I say long awaited – long awaited mainly by those who work in literary publishing and by those who seem to eagerly wait 365 days to complain about it. It dawned two hours earlier for me in fact, as I was in a holiday villa on the coast of Turkey at the time. The world of publishing for once seemed a distant dream, and reading the longlist by an azure pool it was a challenge to pull myself back to those daily realms of literary fiction. Books never let you get away that easily of course. I had stuffed my suitcase with the novels I had missed out on over the past few months (being an editorial assistant leaves a scarily slim amount of time in which to read outside of your own list I have found!). I had also given one very special book to the long suffering boyfriend to carry in his hand luggage, because as I very clearly explained to him as he staggered through security, as there was NO WAY I was letting a proof of David Nicholls’ Us go in the HOLD.
So imagine my delight that unwittingly, I had brought my first longlist candidate on holiday with me – the much anticipated follow up to the literary sensation that was One Day.