On My Brief View of Fame

On My Brief View of Fame

Also posted in An Evening's Entertainment.

FAME

I have had a very brief fling with a sort of fame. Three of four years I attended the Santa Barbara Writers' Conference. Two years running, I won awards for my writing there. I got to go up on stage with several hundred people watching, and collect my award. I skipped a year, then attended the conference again.

I wrote a prose poem that year entitled Are You Listening? The poem was about the death of my grandfather. I remember, a workshop leader at the conference—my mentor, did not ask me to sit near her in the audience as she had when I won awards for my writing. I should have known something was up I suppose.

My poem did not win any awards. Nor did any other category of my work. Another fine workshop leader in writing non-fiction using fiction techniques said she had considered putting me up for another award, but a woman who's husband had died also had a piece that ultimately got an award. So, dead husband trumps dead grandfather. I have no problem with this. Her work probably surpassed mine, and deserved an award. I'd gotten my glory. Subsequently, I received a nomination for a Pushcart Prize, which is a national award for writers published in the small press. (Of course, I only got nominated by the publication, and I did not get onto the short list for the award. As such, I might as well have not received the nomination at all as far as the committee for the prize was concerned.)

I have been searching for my Are You Listening? poem. When and if I come across it, I will post it here. It used to be online but is alas, no more. Guess no one listened.

Found it. Yes, my name is misspelled.