Alas. It is 4:40 p.m. of the day that the Children's Writer-in-Residence award winner was scheduled to be announced, and no one from the Associates of the Boston Public Library has contacted me. Though the name of the winner is not yet posted on the website, this is exactly what I remember from my last attempt: The day comes and goes, the lucky winner is posted a few days later.
So I'm disappointed, of course, and sad, and completely second-guessing my writing talent, and all those other things you feel and do in a situation like this.
But I'm also mindful of the fact that nothing in my life has changed at all, and my life is actually quite nice. And I certainly don't need this award to write a book.
As I headed to lunch with my kids (Martini was horrified to catch me and Mimosa eating all the leftover Pad Thai – one package of which was rightfully his, I'll admit — and insisted that we return to the Thai place today — and while, yes, eating your son's precious leftovers is not perhaps the nicest thing to do, I maintain that if he hadn't caught me [and what was he doing out of bed at 10 last night??] he would NEVER have remembered that he had any leftovers at all . . . but I digress), I said, "Well, if I can't be the greatest YA author, maybe I'll settle for being the greatest mother!!!" . . . and, oh, the silence that greeted my declaration. Oh, how my desperately brave words echoed through my ancient Honda.
But M&M have otherwise been very sweet to me today. They are good kids.
And I just finished an awesome book, Wife 22 (highly recommended, though it's hard not to see the twist coming, IMHO), plus I'm making a kick-ass dinner — homemade French bread with industrial-strength garlic butter, Caesar salad, pasta, and Chicken Parmigiana, my first attempt at this recipe, plus Martini and I made dark chocolate mousse earlier and we've got heavy cream for whipping — plus we're watching a marathon of Falling Skies tonight because we keep forgetting it's on, so we've got at least three hours to watch, maybe more, plus my wine rack is full of Chardonnay, plus I've got an enormous pile of enticing library books. It's going to be a great, albeit hot, weekend; I will do my chores early and then sit in front of a fan and read.
(And work out. Li'l Martini and I exercised this morning, lifting weights and doing leg lifts and core work and butt crunches, and we challenged each other to see who could hold The Plank the longest, and I made it to 30 seconds! I am wicked proud of myself!!! So, OK, I won't be the writer-in-residence anywhere, but you'll be able to bounce a quarter off my abs by September — this is my vow.)
OK. Sad again. Going to slink away and pound chicken breasts and drink and just be sad.
But this too shall pass.
Thanks for listening!
It's official; I just got a note from the Associates confirming that I didn't win.
However, and this is kinda cool, they said that they got significantly more applications than last year (when they got 60) and that I made it into the Top 5. Top 5 of, say, 100? That's pretty good, right?
I'm still in a fog of disappointment (and, truth be told, a li'l Charonnay) but Husband is very excited and keeps saying WOW. So maybe tomorrow I'll be more excited.
But still: I didn't win. I have to go get a real job in the fall. ☹
Oh, well! Fall is a long time from now.