Coo tickets bagged, at last.

I have finally managed to book myself a couple of tickets for Crime At The Coo on the Saturday evening of Bloody Scotland 2023.

Every year previously, I’ve been too slow, and by too slow I mean taking more than three minutes to book them. Usually, they’re all gone within minutes of going on sale.

One previous year I managed to blag my way in by sucking up shamelessly to one of the amazing and fabulous and triffic writerers who help organise it, and another year I failed to book because of a glitch on the BS web site so the even more amazing and fabulous and triffic organisers of BS put me on the returns list and I got one that way.

But this year, I was off my work-from-home nonsense like shite off a hot shovel and over to the booking page as soon as I saw the email announcing the programme had been released.

I’m giddy with both excitement and a sense of achievement. The feeling of finishing a complete, polished, perfect, novel is one thing, but  it pales into paltry insignificance next to the warm, smug, feeling of knowing my Coo tickets are bagged (and not blagged, this year, #SeeWotIDidThere?).

Life is good. For now.

xxx