When the email first pinged in April 2021, I dismissed it as a scam. My husband read it and said, ‘You’ve been longlisted, eejit.’

I’d completely forgotten that, a few months earlier, I’d entered the first 10,000 words of a raw manuscript into the inaugural Women’s Prize Discoveries programme. Amid the Covid pandemic, this seemed extra surreal. Was I delirious or had there been some unfortunate admin error? No!

Thanks to the Discoveries listing, I signed with an agent at Curtis Brown. A godsend after being ghosted by almost every suitable agency in the Writers’ & Artists’ Yearbook. I’d since learned from CBC’s Edit & Pitch Your Novel that you do need to put some research and effort into your query letter. In fact, you need to finesse the living hell out of it. Reader, I had not.

That’s the beauty of Women’s Prize Discoveries: it gives unrepresented, unpublished women writers in the UK and Ireland a unique opportunity to rise to the top of the slush pile. For free.

In autumn 2022, my agent submitted a remodelled and honed manuscript of No Oil Painting – a reverse art heist at the National Trust. Nail-biting doesn’t cover it. I received loads of upbeat feedback; apparently editors don’t have to sugar-coat. But still most passed: it fell between two markets; it was too commercial; not commercial enough; cosy crime was done; they’d just signed an author in the same genre and so on.

Then in early 2023, we got a bite from Hodder & Stoughton. Over Zoom, an editor offered some astute insights. She liked my whole concept but suggested a more commercial narrative arc. I was flattered that she’d taken the time but, truthfully, my heart sank. Nearly all her points chimed, and this meant that my manuscript wasn’t as good as it could be. I needed to turn round a major redraft asap. Her parting words, ‘Thank you for writing such brilliant characters’ spurred me on.

Meanwhile, my father’s Alzheimer’s required round-the-clock care. Although exhausted, I found solace in my writing. Like a gang of imaginary friends, my characters had taken up residence in my head. Particularly Maureen, my wily septuagenarian art thief. That’s the insanity of storytelling. And the joy.

I overhauled No Oil Painting, but when we resubmitted, the editor at Hodder had moved on to back catalogues with another agency. Another hard lesson – the publishing industry is in constant flux. Furthermore, a resubmission is rare, and we received fewer responses. Other life events took over. My agent had to pause submission because she was going on maternity leave and, like many over-stretched agencies, there was no cover. Sadly, this also meant that we had to part ways.

Some three years on, I shambled through that grey January at a very low ebb. Having only just started my second novel, it was pointless pitching to new agents. I decided to park this whole writing malarkey. Well, not entirely. Between recovering from an operation and settling my father into a care home, I continued to dabble. Boosted by a listing for the Writers’ & Artists’ Short Story Competition 2024, I also experimented with flash fiction. Damn it, I was hooked again. Recalling Kate Mosse’s sage advice to me at the first Women’s Prize Live event, ‘You just have to keep going,’ I began submitting No Oil Painting to indie publishers that accept unrepresented authors.

That autumn, Women’s Prize bolstered me once again. The loyalty and support they offer Discoveries alumni is invaluable. Due to the pandemic, my fellow listees had been unable to meet, so I asked Head of Projects, Annabelle Wright, if she could pass on my details to any from our year group who wanted to connect. Most did and we bonded instantly. All these women inspired me with their resilience. Some were published or had signed contracts with the big five, others had won prestigious awards, taught writing workshops or had self-published. One – shout-out Elizabeth Kuligowski – had recently published her novel, Red On The Inside, with indie publisher Burton Mayers Books. Why not try them?

Richard Mayers expressed immediate interest. He has years of publishing experience and was refreshingly straightforward. With advice from the Society of Authors, I tweaked his contract, and we signed in May. I handled proofreading, copyright issues and contributed to the cover design, complete with my tagline. Marketing is all down to me. Although a steep learning curve, it’s also quite liberating. While I lack the PR heft of traditional publishing houses, the Women’s Prize Trust is a powerful champion. They’re also a warm, tight-knit team (Executive Director, Claire Shanahan, and I share a penchant for leopard print). Then there’s the special camaraderie of the stellar Disco community.

Writing is a solitary activity but unlike Maureen in my opening chapters, I never feel alone.