A fancy cardboard envelope arrived yesterday. I'd forgotten I'd submitted Settling to an awards contest for books from small independent publishers. Inside the envelope was a nice letter and a certificate saying I'd won third place in the 2008 General Fiction category.
Pleasant news. Best not to think about it too much, I knew, but I couldn't resist checking out the list of winners. Not a single publisher, except for mine, that wasn't either a vanity or self-publishing company.
When you come close, but no cigar more than once, is that a signal to forget about competition? I think it is, except for the reaction of the woman who published my book. Her response was, "Now you're an award-winning novelist." If that isn't a comment with so many reverberations I can't take space to address them here, I don't know what is.
So now I'll have to sit down and try to write a serious essay, I guess. Don't stay tuned here. If I succeed with it, it will be on Senior Women Web in the future.