Tuesday, January 11, 2011

And the Award Goes To . . .


Not too long ago someone asked me if I'd ever had a piece of writing nominated for an award. Short answer: Yes. And, I've actually had a couple of winners, too.

But back in 2005 I had a short story entitled, "Bag of Tricks", that was nominated by the editor, P. Britt, for The Best American Short Stories anthology. The story didn't get picked as a top 100 story, but I at least felt affirmed by the editor, knowing that she had selected my work as her top pick for that year.

Writing and awards don't go well together. There is so much subjectivity and individual taste applied to the judgment, most writers feel ashamed, and certainly awkward, whenever they accept an award.

My "Bag of Tricks" story is certainly one of my best. As I recall, after I wrote it (probably wrote it in 2001), my wife wouldn't read it. It's about a man traveling to South America in a desperate attempt to locate a cancer cure for his wife. Becky sometimes accuses me of writing about "depressing" subjects, but when I remind her that I also write great heaping piles of humor and even books, she refuses to read these warped pieces, too. In fact, she doesn't read much of anything I write, which is just fine. No one else reads my stories either.

Somewhere in my closet I still have the certificate from the editor who nominated "Bag of Tricks" for the honor, but it's long since been covered over with other discarded essays, stories, humor, and ream after ream of piled paper. Years from now, perhaps one of my ancestors will want to start a fire. They'll find my life's work stuffed in the closet and say, "Hey, this would make good kindling." And who knows, they might even stop to read some of the millions of words I've spun over the past three decades and say, "Let's not burn this one, let's use it to wallpaper the bathroom."

That will be affirmation enough. And I accept the honor with gratitude.

No comments: