One Miss, One Hit

I managed to miss the entire National Book Award ceremony because of a Zoom meeting and then a long phone call with a friend/colleague about Pony Club. (My tenure as a volunteer is coming to an end and I am ready to pass the torch, but that's fodder for another post.) 

I broke free just in time to receive shocked and disbelieving texts from C.S. that the NBA winner was not Shuggie Bain but a total dark horse, Charles Yu's Interior Chinatown. C.S. thought it was one of the weaker finalists, so you could have knocked him over with a feather. And so the streak must begin again, if he's going to keep picking the winners.

I managed my schedule much more effectively yesterday and spent a pleasantly late lunch hour eating nachos, watching the Booker ceremony live, and deciphering British accents. That was fun! 

And Shuggie Bain took home the Booker Prize! It sounds like a violent and tender book, one that I will not enjoy reading but may well be glad I did. C.S. pegged it as "an instant classic." (Read more about the book, the ceremony, and the prize here.)

Author Douglas Stuart made a poignant acceptance speech, looking clearly surprised and grateful. I particularly liked the part where he thanked his husband, who supported him and kept the faith during the 10 years Stuart spent writing the novel. I imagine they are thoroughly celebrating this recognition of his dedication.

And I am celebrating with them! Awards season puts a nice finish on the reading year, doesn't it?