CONTESTS: All is forgiven–mostly

I got a letter from Bob Newhart today.

It was sent to me along with my certificate for winning fourth place in that Robert Benchley Society essay contest. I am pretty thrilled at getting his comments (all four winners got letters.)

He writes, “Originally I had ranked you number one because you used my name. But then I discovered that everyone knew I was the judge, so I had to move you to fourth [for sucking up].” *grin*

I *think* he’s kidding.

Yep, that was a gamble mentioning him at the end of the essay. But I do think he was teasing. Anyhow, there must be a Larger Purpose in having me not win #1. I need to figure out where to concentrate my efforts.

All is forgiven–well, mostly. *grin* I shall restore my DVDs of the Bob Newhart show to their place of honor alongside Mary Tyler Moore, Dobie Gillis, and MTV’s Daria.

No money is awarded to third/fourth place winners. The award letter said they’d still like me to come to the party in October and speak if I want to, but there’s no way we could get up there. If I spend money on going anyplace, it’ll be to see what is left of Big Sur. *SIGH* And now Yosemite is threatened with a ring of fire 12 miles away and moving forward. Caused, they think, by an idiot shooting targets in the woods!

We must stop the heat wave. The pavement is melting.


Author: shalanna

Shalanna: rhymes with "Madonna" and "I wanna," and is not a soundalike with "Hosanna" or "Sha-Na-Na." Aging hippie with long hair, husband, elderly mother, and yappy Pomeranian. I've been writing since I could hold a crayon. I started with fiction, which Mama said was "lying." “Don’t tell stories,” she would admonish, in Southern vernacular. “That's all in your imagination!” When grownups said this, they were not approving. So, shamed, I stopped telling stories for a few years--rather, I stopped letting anyone read them. I'm married to a fellow computer nerd who doesn't really like hearing about writing, but who reads sf/fantasy and understands the creative drive. I'm actually a nonconformist/hippie still wearing bluejeans and drop earrings and the Alice-in-Wonderland hair with headbands and sandals. Favorite flavor is chocolate/orange, favorite color is either Dreamsicle orange (cantaloupe) or bubble-gum pink, favorite musical is either Bye Bye Birdie, Rocky Horror, or The Producers . . . wait, I also love The Music Man. Is this getting way too specific and irrelevant yet? Obvious why I don't sell a ton of flash fiction, isn't it? To define oneself, I always say, it is good to make a list. How about a booklist? Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird Frank and Ernestine Gilbreth, Cheaper by the Dozen C.S.Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (all the Narnia books) J.R.R.Tolkien,The Hobbit/LORD OF THE RINGS trilogy Gail Godwin, The Odd Woman F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby J. D. Salinger, Catcher in the Rye (before dismissing it, actually read it) George Orwell, 1984 Kurt Vonnegut, Cat's Cradle Donna Tartt, The Secret History Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn James Allen, As A Man Thinketh Mark Winegardner, Elvis Presley Boulevard James Thurber, My Life and Hard Times The Wizard of Oz, L. Frank Baum Winnie-the-Pooh/House at Pooh Corner, A. A. Milne Peter Pan, J. M. Barrie The KJV and NIV Bible (each translation has its glories)

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