Awaiting the Award

My novel Shall Never See So Much is up for an award. It is a finalist for a Readers Favorite award in the category of Historical Fiction. There will be four winners named: Gold, Silver, Bronze, and Honorable Mention. There are five books among the finalists. That's right - four awards, five nominees.

Naturally I think I'll win. My book could very well be one of the six or seven best novels ever written. Truthfully, writing's not my only incomparable skill. I can think on my feet and handle tough interview questions. Why, let somebody dare ask me about my definition of marriage. Too, I am graceful and poised when I strut about in evening wear. Perhaps even a little coquettish. And besides, I look way better in a bathing suit than the other authors. And I can sing, too. Still. But the rumors about the sex tapes? Not a shred of truth.

Not to be boastful, but my book is a lock. When the four names are called, one will still be standing there, looking down sheepishly and trying valiantly to act like losing is no big deal. It ain't gonna be me, folks. I'll be standing there in my speedo, holding high the Gold medal and singing "Love and Marriage" in a raw masculine display of good ole American winnership.

Winners will be announced on September 1st. I will post a later blog and let you know how I finished, unless of course I lose in which case I'll quietly slink into the woods to commune with nature.

Anyway, until then, we finalists will wait in our evening gowns with our bouquets in our arms, smiling radiantly, and wait for the winners to be announced.

While I'm completely confident of victory, I do have to confess that the thought of losing, of standing there all alone and forcing a smile through the tears, does affect my ability to think and type and xmemdnrishaklcnjskanddnsbakdnfgbkssbnd

New York, New York

I am a son of the South. With the exception of my service in the U.S. Marine Corps, I have lived my entire life in the Southeastern USA. I've had the good fortune to travel all over the world, but it's the South I'll always call home. I love its heat and humidity, the grits and gravy, the Appalachian Mountains, the Atlantic and Gulf coasts, the writers and musicians, the red clay, pine trees, peach pie, and peanut brittle. Athens, Georgia on a football Saturday is nothing short of a quick little glimpse into Heaven itself (with red & black substituting for gold, of course). God has to let UGA lose every now and then or else we Dawg people might begin to think we'd already been called Home.

But by far, my favorite city on the face of this planet is New York. It is simply the greatest city in the world, in a world fully stocked with great cities. I love London, Sydney, Rome, Dublin, Tokyo, and Toronto. And I love our own Chicago, San Francisco, Boston, New Orleans, and my hometown Atlanta.

None can compare to New York, however. Its restaurants, its museums, its theaters, its skyline, its spirit and character--all of which I like. Its sports teams, its flagship newspaper, its traffic, its mostly liberal politics--none of which I like. But that's just it! New York has everything, whether you like it or not. It is big and brawny and sprawling, loud and boisterous, busy and action-filled, so deal with it.

Who will ever forget the way the city dealt with 9/11 and its immediate aftermath? New York took a punch and got back up again. It asked for help, but not sympathy, and our nation responded accordingly. In the process it won the admiration of America, if not the world.

I remember a visit my wife and I made to the city at Christmas, 2003. We visited Ground Zero, took in a show, and shopped the stores. But the moment I remember most vividly was when a FDNY engine passed in the street. I gave a salute to a fireman looking my way, and he returned the salute. From one American to another. If 9/11 had been a quick little glimpse into hell, then our witness to the bravery of those firefighters on that unforgettable day gives us all a lift, a pride, an appreciation for our people's spirit, and the spirit of our greatest city. Who can ever forget that bravery? That resilience? That quintessential New York can-do attitude?

It is the greatest city in the world.

A Presidential Visit

President Barack Obama visited my city, Atlanta, today. He gave a speech at a downtown hotel to the Disabled Veterans of America. His address spanned several topics, to include updates on the efforts in Iraq and Afghanistan. And, of course, there was the requisite political posturing that comes with any presidential appearance.

With regard to politics and positions, I don't have enough in common with this president's policies to fill up a thimble. He's on one end; I'm on the other. And we'll stay that way, I'm quite certain.

But today the president struck the right tone and chose the right words to express his admiration for America's veterans, especially those who have been disabled by their service in war. President Obama was respectful and appreciative, and more than once he underscored his commitment to take care of the men and women who have served and suffered in taking care of this nation.

Some issues transcend politics, and the care of America's disabled veterans is clearly one of those. I got the distinct impression today that the president understands that. I can only speak for myself--a healthy, non-disabled vet--but I'm glad President Obama gave a salute to the many thousands of wounded and disabled veterans of this nation. And I'm glad he came to my city to do it.

I return the salute, Mister President.