I saw that the finalists for the National Book Award were announced today, via GalleyCat (a blog by Ron Hogan who is, among other things, a stunningly awesome headline writer).
Despite what I say about being moderately hopeless, there is a small ice cube in my little glass-half-empty heart that truly believes that it’s in the realm of possibility that Practically Perfect would be on the list. I mean, I’m almost certain that the National Book Award committee doesn’t rely on writers stumbling around on the internet to get informed that they’ve been shortlisted. But not 100 percent.
In other news: I’m a dork.
While I was there, I noticed that there is a category called “Young People’s Literature.” Which seems kind of quaint. I’ve heard of “young adult” or “children’s”—but “young people”?
I don’t know about that for the book club, Dot. That’s seems like young people’s literature. The kind they read when they’re listening to the rock and rock and playing on the world wide web.
I don't know. Maybe it's just me.