So that’s it for another year. Anna Burns has deservedly been crowned winner of the Man Booker prize 2018, and life returns to normal for everyone except her. No more gatherings of judges, no more anxiety for long- and shortlisted authors, no more sniping from the sidelines by critics, publishers and anybody who feels entitled to an opinion, whether informed by reading or not.

We five judges met for the last time on Tuesday, to consider the remaining six books from the 171 offered for our scrutiny. It was clear very early in the selection process that some of those many books were not going to win. (There was one, and only one, about which I remarked it would not win the Man Booker if it was the sole contender.) The basic separation of sheep and goats was relatively straightforward.

The hard part was dealing with the ones that we embraced with delight: novels whose narratives spellbound us; whose craft impressed us; whose prose enchanted us; and whose ideas made us revise our own.

At first we were tentative about casting aside a book that had any advocacy around the table. We didn’t know each other well enough to judge how best to express our own lack of love for the novel in question. But in the space of two or three meetings, we formed an understanding of how to work together effectively.

The legend of the Man Booker is garlanded round with tales of arguments and tantrums, of judges threatening to throw themselves out of windows, of cries of: “Over my dead body.” I know it will disappoint anyone reading this, but we didn’t indulge in that sort of carry-on. Not that there was any lack of passion – each of us at one time or another spoke with enthusiasm and vehemence about books we had fallen for, explaining what had touched us and engaged our attention. But there was never a lack of respect or a failure of consideration.

Even when we had to make our final choice, there were no ultimatums, no horse-trading, no sulking. Fuelled by coffee and chocolate, we talked our way through the shortlist one by one, itemising pros and cons. After a couple of hours, three books emerged as having slightly more cons than the other three.

We took a 10-minute break. We came back and considered which of the three remaining books we would press into the hands of friends and family. Each of them, we decided, would find happy homes with different members of those groups … Again, we dug into the reasons we admired the books and what flaws we could find – because no books are perfect. Not even mine.

And after more chocolate and another hour or so, Anna Burns’s remarkable novel emerged as the one we all felt was the right choice. Then it was finally time for the champagne.

I’ve spent 10 months as a member of the best book club in the world. Most of that comes down to our chair, the philosopher Kwame Anthony Appiah. He’s always been clear about our aims, about the way we conduct our meetings and our deliberations, and he set a tone that made sure everyone was listened to with respect. I’ve learned so much from these meetings, not least because we judges have very different backgrounds and working lives.

No cliffhanging drama, then, except for the shortlisted authors at the dinner. Just a bloody good book for readers to get their teeth into. Enjoy!