Only the most misguided soul would get into the writing game because he or she craves adulation. Plaudits and ego massages are hard to come by in the line of work, and I’m perfectly fine with that. But I’ll confess to feeling a small twinge of excitement upon learning that The Skies Belong to Us is up for a Goodreads Choice Award, thus giving me my first opportunity to win a multi-round competition since my days of varsity baseball. (Yes, this khan was compelled to play baseball, rather than his preferred yak polo—blame the American educational system.)
Being a realist at heart, I know that my skyjacking yarn stands little chance of taking home the top prize—it’s up against many books more beloved. But if I can make it to the final round, I’ll count that as a monster triumph. And if that happens, I vow to post some recently unearthed footage of my childhood appearance on Punky Brewster.
A scintillating deal, though? Please do you part by casting a vote for The Skies Belong to Us, and telling your compatriots to do likewise. And see you back here shortly for some fresh posts on Venezuelan oil exploration, Tasmanian crime families, and counterfeit doubloons.
(Image via My Tee Spot)