In which I:
* got the hang of Cabcharge;
* finally met my incredible editor in person, after working intensely together on my manuscript for the last six months via only emails and phone calls, and clung to her in gratitude until the moment to let go had passed and it possibly got awkward;
* reunited with the eighth wonder of the world, my publicist;
* also had the thrill of meeting in person (oh for the love of coming home!) some of the astonishing powerhouse women at HarperCollins, who I am in awe of.
* was upgraded to a queen room on the 17th floor of my hotel (this has never happened, and my reaction was appropriately understated);
* sat on my first author panel in humbling, incredible writerly company;
* spoke words that were terrifying, powerful, and freeing; managed not to sob, or lose bodily function;
* met wonderful, passionate Sydney book-lovers, disguised as wonderful, passionate booksellers and retail book-buyers;
* did my first ever author interview with a warm and sensitive journalist, for an insanely exciting publication, AND managed to not dribble, fall down, or have any I-carried-a-watermelon moments;
* had the delight of meeting in person my design team responsible for producing so stunningly Edith Rewa's sublime artwork on my cover, and fell in love with them in approximately three minutes: we connected over shared reverence for Melanie Griffiths’ hair in Working Girl, and Ponyboy. True love forever;
* wrapped up the blur of my time in Sydney perfectly in conversation with my magic-maker, Catherine Milne, at the HarperCollins sales summit. Did not manage to quell the rising sob this time, but scurried off stage before there could be any threat of drowning the beautifully-responsive HC sales reps in a biblical flood.
Time now at home for rest with my beloved parentals, dogs, and sunshine, to finally vanquish jet lag, sleep, sit in the Queensland breeze, and reflect on these few ridiculous, life-changing days. Thank you so much for sharing in them with me, wildflowers.
HOLLY RINGLAND grew up barefoot and wild in her mother's tropical garden on the east coast of Australia. Her interest in cultures and stories was sparked by a two-year journey her family took in North America when she was nine years old, living in a camper van and travelling from one national park to another. In her twenties, Holly worked for four years in a remote Indigenous community in the central Australian desert. Moving to England in 2009, Holly obtained her MA in Creative Writing from the University of Manchester. Her essays and short fiction have been published in various anthologies and literary journals. She now lives between the UK and Australia. To any question ever asked of Holly about growing up, writing has always been the answer.