Braggart

I am a lip-smacking braggart today but I'm so proud and wanted to shout about it.

E. has won a £25 voucher in a writing competition.

The judges said her story showed "A clever technique and an ability to use words in a sensual and engaging way."

They also said: "...there is some exceptional talent here. I suspect, in a few years, this writer will be one to watch."

And they also wrote of her story: "Heart-breaking, superbly-written, profoundly moving, an extraordinary piece of writing. Brilliant!"

Darn it, I'm spouting like a demented teapot.

Crying. Sobbing tears of sweet-unadulterated pride.

I knew she had talent. I've read some of her stories, and others she's showed on different websites and they've been praised.

But, gee, writers have written such nice things about her short story.

And she hasn't been lost in a crowd of mediocrity at school where Jody, who normally doesn't put pen to paper, gets an award for making a biro mark on his exam booklet.

I am so proud of both my girls I could - well, I could gosh, darnit - I could spring for a takeaway to celebrate.

Where's the phone?

By the way, shall I email Ed Balls? Or would he say we're living in a hot-house? Sad, sorry little man.