Last night a dear friend called and read a press release to me that’s hitting the news today in the Midwest.
Apparently, I have erroneously been given the distinction of winning a Pulitzer Prize.
Let me say that when I heard those words (I was in the kitchen making a ham sandwich when they were read to me), I began making sounds that resembled the shrieks I emitted in my 4oth hour of labor for my first child.
For purposes of clarity, let me say that I worked on a recently-released book with a Pulitzer Prize finalist. However, I have never won a Pulitzer Prize. And I’m already planning on my first few words of explanation when I speak in that Midwestern community as “Shelly-who’s-never-even-seen-a-Pulitzer.”
While I apologize for the misunderstanding caused by someone’s simple mistake, I don’t apologize for who I am or for what I write. I received the huge honor of winning a Christy Award for my first novel. And I was nominated for an Evangelical Christian Publishers Association (ECPA) Book of the Year award for my first non-fiction book.
But if you want the truth, those shrieking noises are still slipping out of me here and there when I think about the people who might show up to hear me with expectations of hearing Someone Else.
Oh well, in the words of Popeye, “I yam what I yam, and that’s all I yam!”
And I’m pretty sure God’s smiling about all of it. I think he’s has something up his sleeve.
And if you hear the shrieks from Sparta, Michigan, it’s me.