Eat Your Heart Out, Olympians

Posted on 14 August 2012

Last night I was on my way out the door to meet my writing buddies when UPS delivered a package from my publisher. Inside, I found this: My gold IPPY medal for Living Arrangements.

I had never seen an IPPY medal in person and assumed they were tiny, like the kind you could sew on your jacket if you were so unfortunately inclined. Instead, I pulled from the box a huge medal I could hang around my neck like the champion that I apparently am. I immediately put it on, of course, and when I ran upstairs to grab my notebook, the medal thumped a heavy weight against my chest.

I have to say — I think writers should more often be rewarded with a prize that provides physical proof of all the hard work, time, agony, and uncertainty that goes into writing a book.

I also may have asked Peter to gather the cats so we could round out our medal podium, but that’s neither here nor there.

And yes, okay, maybe I did bring my prize to the restaurant where I met my friends. I mean, how often do writers get medals? We laughed and I put it on for about five seconds but then quickly tucked it into my bag. It may or may not have occurred to me that I could try to tell people, from a far distance, that I’d won an Olympic medal. You know, for research purposes for a story. But I refrained. For now, the medal is sitting in my writing room and I’m just grateful that the cats haven’t destroyed it yet, or that Cirrus hasn’t taken a shine to it and brought it to his secret lair, where he  stockpiles squeaky toys, bits of dental floss, and Q-tips.

Here’s a photo of the medal with the certificate. They’re on the window seat that I’d just recovered the day before. Note how the gold fabric complements the medal. Oh, what’s that, am I gloating?

In non-award-winning news, I’m off to Bread Loaf tomorrow. I doubt this blog will go entirely dark, however; I’ll try to sneak in the occasional short update. And stay tuned for longer posts detailing my awkward wine-fueled interactions upon my return.

9 responses to Eat Your Heart Out, Olympians

  • Erin O'Brien says:

    Have a wonderful time at Bread Loaf.

    I do not know whether or not I am disappointed in the fact that you are not biting the medal in today’s graphic.

    • I considered it, I did. I was mostly so rushed for time I didn’t get a chance to pose with it appropriately. You know, like wearing it while eating a falafel at Maha’s, or while riding the Millenium Force at Cedar Point, while doing yard work, etc. etc. I really need to get organized.

  • Amy says:

    Where’s the “Like” button on this site. Ah…you know what I mean:) Congrats…Champion of coffee, late nights, and writing long amazing stories…

  • Paul Lamb says:

    Excellent news on the IPPY Medal, but I wish you had included a photo of yourself with it rather than whoever that slim supermodel is you had stand in!

    Also, we had a cat who would carry off toys to his lair under the highboy in the dining room. The cat is long gone, but the toys are probably still there (along with all of the medals I’ve surely been awarded but never knew I got cuz he snatched them too fast).

    • You crack me up, Paul.

      When we moved, we found Cirrus’s lair. Lots of dental floss, that’s all I have to say. But now we’re in a house and he has so many more places to hide stuff. As long as he keeps it out of sight, I don’t care.

  • Teri says:

    I’m going to start calling this the Literary Good News Station. Keep it up, Laura! I come here for inspiration. And supermodels.


  • Candy Hanson says:

    So happy UPS could deliver your gold to you and congrats on your book!
    Thanks! Candy | | @UPS

  • Averil Dean says:

    You do have a bit of an Olympian look about you, Laura. Women’s volleyball, maybe, or some sort of track event. But what I really want to know is whether that’s the purple kitchen wall I see behind you. Such a great color!

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