Self-pity is a beautiful well to repeatedly dip in and find more reasons not to live, more reasons not to cheer. And the well is an illusion until the well runs dry and then you’re ready for a different song.” Robert Forster, liner notes for Rock And Roll Friend, The Go-Betweens.

Dad and niecelet

There’s no way to sugarcoat it, 2012 was the worst year of my life. It made the other worse years I’ve experienced get down and kiss its hem. It was toxic. It was calamitous. I stumbled through the months and weeks and days shrouded in a veil of sadness. It pained me that 2012 also touched a lot of people I love in the same way; through serious illness or by having hurt and heartache that they didn’t deserve heaped upon them. But above all, 2012 will always be the year that I lost my darling Dad. I miss him every day. I dread the memory of him, his voice, his laugh, even his smell, growing distant. I still can’t quite imagine my life without him in it.

But just as other people I knew had the best year of their lives; they fell in love, got married, had babies, had professional and personal success, something amazing happened to me this year too. Six days after my Dad died, after years of dithering and scanning rescue centre websites when I should have been working, Blossom scampered into my life on four bandy legs.

I agreed to foster a Staffordshire Bull terrier for two weeks. She was picked up as a stray after she’d been thrown out, though she’d delivered her third or fourth litter of puppies so recently that she was lactating and still looked pregnant. She had hormonal alopecia. She would hold her pee for up to two days at a time and when I’d praise her and stroke her for finally deigning to go, she’d cower back like I was going to hit her. After worrying about my Dad for so long, I really needed to be needed again. Within a day, I told the rescue charity that I’d adopt her.

This is what she looked like back in early July.

It’s now six months later and I love Miss Betsy (she was having nothing to do with the name Blossom) without rhyme or reason. She’s gone from being uber submissive to very naughty. She loves mange touts, cherry tomatoes, TV panel shows, belly rubs and protecting me from imaginary mice. We both find her weekly obedience class very traumatic. She’s destroyed many things I held dear like my Sunday morning lie-ins and my favourite slippers and she won’t go for her first walk in the morning until I’ve cuddled her for at least five minutes.

I’m not a person that suffers from depression, but there have been times this year that I don’t know how I’d have got out of bed, much less got through the day, without Betsy. And I’m sure you know how I feel about mawkish sentiment, but there is a truth to the cliche that you don’t rescue a dog, they rescue you. I also think it’s kind of ironic that I wrote about a tan and white Staffie with issues in You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me and I’ve ended up sharing my sofa with one.

So, even though I approach 2013 with extreme wariness as there are still aftershocks from 2012 that need to be dealt with, I’m ready for the new year. I don’t have much in the way of resolutions; I’d like to be a more receptive to new experiences and new people, but mostly I want to write the novel that I’ve always hoped I was capable of writing.

Talking of books, there’s only one new release from me this year. My next adult book, It Felt Like a Kiss, will be out in May. I’ll post more details as soon as I have them. I am writing a YA novel at the moment, The Worst Girlfriend in the World but there’ll be no new YA release this year. However, I have some really exciting news about old books that I hope to share with you very soon.

And also US readers, hi! My three adult books will be available as Kindle Direct releases on Amazon.com imminently and I will also give you details of them as soon as I have them. I’ve pretty much self-published under the auspices of Curtis Brown, my agents, and Amazon and am thrilled that I’ll be able release the books as they’re meant to be and not with a multitude of changes to make them less British. Man meets woman meets rock meets hard place is a universal language that we all speak, right? Right!

So, enough about me. I hope that your 2013 is everything you would want it to be and if sometimes it gets hard, I hope you all find your own personal Betsy’s to pull you towards the light.

Betsy in her most usual pose

Live on,

Sarra x

PS: I adopted Betsy from All Dogs Matter who are based in North London and Norfolk. They have a lot of dogs looking for homes, both foster and forever, so if you are thinking about getting a dog, I would love if it you’d consider a rescue dog. I would also love it you’d consider a Staffie who, despite their reputation, are one of the most people-friendly breeds around.