The Orange Prize Awards Ceremony
By Hazel
On the 9th June, 2010, in the Royal Festival Hall, there was the 15th Anniversary of the Orange Prize for Fiction. To celebrate this event, six teenagers between 17-19 were chosen to be judges through Spinebreakers to judge and shortlist the previous 14 winners and choose their “best of the best”. These judges came from all over the UK; London itself, Wales, York, Bradford and Norwich-
The last one was me, Hazel Compton. I arrived on this date after a month of balancing reading with my first year of University at the UEA, reading English Lit and Art History, with awe. I had met my other judges twice between the end of April and end of May. These had been all-expenses-paid trips from Norwich to London, then conversing in the M&C Saatchi building the first time, where we compiled a shortlist from the long list, and then in Clarence House, where we made our winner, after having tea and shortcake with HRH the Duchess of Cornwall, Camilla Parker-Bowles!
And now, after all this discussion, we were at the Royal Festival Hall, having just walked up an Orange carpet, having our names checked and our ID investigated. We were very definitely on the list, and we were all dressed for the occasion. I was wearing my favourite item of the moment; a vintage 70’s dress brought from New York by a friend of mine, who had sold it to me so she could earn money to fund her Creative Writing MA (the irony that I would be wearing the garment to a literary awards ceremony!) We walked up the final steps to the dance hall into the throng. I was astounded by the many people all standing around, champagne in hand and smiles on faces, talking shop to one another. The guesses for the Orange Prize abounded across the air and I could only listen with intrigue at each person’s idea.
The stage
I was in love. I was in love with the scene, the feeling, the excitement over books! Something none of my friends shared a passion for, yet these adults did and my fellow judges did. It was later in my trip (that I extended over three days instead of one night) that I would learn just how many hours we could spend talking of books and literature and our love of the reality they give us; so much better than real life! I heard people talking of book deals, of ideas, of news, and I wanted so desperately to be able to join in; I felt a little like an imposter in this clique, but I wasn’t going to leave! It was weird, I knew what people were talking about, but not how to join in, and not until after the awards were presented and everyone loosened up did I find it easy to infiltrate the field.
Danielle from Spinebreakers came and introduced herself to us then. She was lovely, talking to us as if we actually were one of the main people who should be at this party. We thanked her for our opportunity that we were so lucky to have been blessed with, gave our theories on the book that would win, where we all admitted to not reading all (if any) of the books on the shortlist after our feat of reading the 14 previous winners, plus exams. And then we were ushered to one side of the stage as the awards were ready to be presented.
Kate Mosse
Kate Mosse in a pyre of benevolent spirit and a blossoming orange halter neck acted as introducer between the awards, her beauty a phoenix of the orange flame. The Harpers Bizarre first paragraph competition whizzed past, then the Award for New Writers was expressed with fluency and a lot of clapping. Our own prize was then announced, and, as a shorter member of our judging group, I stood on tip toes to see the speaker and the author accept the bouquet of flowers and specially bound book. Camilla came to the stand, talking of our commitment and perseverance to the job of judging the books.
HRH The Duchess of Cornwall
It was so surreal; HRH talking of us as if we were to be revered. She then announced our winner; Fugitive Pieces by Anne Michaels. I strained to see this master of language, only to be then informed of the fact that she had been unable to make it due to family matters, yet her publisher was to accept the award in her place. I listened, I smiled, I felt my eyes tear up; this is what we had worked toward, and the reward emotionally was as beautiful as I hoped the physicality of holding a bouquet and special bound book would be.
Anne Michaels' publisher
The winner of the main Orange Prize, Barbara Kingsolver, was a wonderful woman with an obvious flair of life, a modest gene and a few laughs that she freely gave to the audience. She accepted her prize smiled; spoke and we all listened and cheered her. I cannot remember many of anyone’s speeches now; they were a blur of happiness. I remember my fellow judge, Kate Edwards, whisper in my ear “that must be a pinnacle in someone’s life, to receive such a prize.” And thinking how right she was, but as to the people on stage: they were awash with omnipotent pride at the book and author’s talents –and rightly so!
Barbara Kingsolver accepting her award
We were then heralded to talk to HRH once more. She quickly said hello to each of us and mentioned the immortal words: “I hope I meet you again.” To which I was very surprised and happy by. Surprised not by her wanting to meet us again, but the idea that we ever could! After that, we were free to peruse the people around the hallway and outside on the balcony. I wandered around, wanting to meet publishers to talk to of how the literary world worked. This, I realised after a little, was hard, although I managed to socialize better than my fellow judges. Eventually, Kirsty, Kate and I all decided to talk to the publisher of Anne Michaels and tell her how wonderful she was for spotting such talent from Anne. Kate Moss managed to help me track her down, and I quickly lead her over to the rest of the judges, whom, as well as me, issues severe compliments.
Ian Hislop. He was there. Danielle, in her wonderful charming way, managed to introduce us to him. Conrad was ecstatic, expressing political questions and talking for us all whenever Ian asked an open question. He asked us of the books we had read and we gave him honest opinions on them, and i was overjoyed to see him a happily smiling chap. I was used to his quick quips and sarcastic gestures on “Have I Got News for You”, so this was a refreshing scene to see that he actually was an intelligent, but calm and unassuming man. It was definitely a huge experience to talk to him, and I am so thrilled to have seen him, even if I am not his greatest follower (Conrad certainly is)!
The food was interesting. One thing I tried had “chip sticks” crisps on the top of it, but underneath was lads of rocket leaves and tomatoes and things. It tasted nice, and was professionally sculptured in its glass, but I wasn’t sure. Another concoction was a salmon rocket salad thing, the same textures and ideas, but without the crisps. The main food, in honesty, was just weird. I caved to the puddings though. If none of you have ever tried vanilla custard from M&S, well... it’s not just vanilla custard, its M&S vanilla custard. Creamy, like a Crème Brule but with a purer taste, it was sprinkled with chocolate power with the stencil “15” upon it, and, underneath the luxury of this duvet, were blueberry and raspberries, all tart and fresh, full of juice waiting to compound in your mouth. I admit; I had two. They were so delicious I could not help myself. (Plus, I walked it all off the next day and more I’m sure...)
The night was an educational experience into the realm of publishing. It has given me the determination to become a publisher, sited me a realistic view of their work and its doings and let me in on personal experience and pointers from publishers. Danielle was also kind enough to invite Fergus (who I still cannot believe managed to make it at 10.30 after the double-figures of wine he drank), Kirsty, Kate and me to Penguin Publishers for a tour the next day, which we gladly accepted. But the night finished (I cried. I didn’t want it to end!) with us being given a biscuit with “15” written on it on an orange (what other colour would it be?) book, stealing an orange rose and a midnight walk with Big Ben chiming, buskers singing a haunting rendition of “Hallelujah” and the comforting knowledge that we were being put up in a posh four-star Plaza Palace hotel (more like a five-star mansion with 24 hour room service complete with £50 at least main meals) where Orange had booked us in for the night.
I hope this is not my last endeavour into the publishing world, but it will definitely be the one literary party I never want to forget a moment of!
Thank you Spinebreakers, Orange, Kate Moss, and everyone else on the team, who made me turn from a normal teenage girl into literally living the dream that I’ve always had.