The Rules Of SurvivaL

Photos and comments for Thursday, November 16, 2006

And so it ends. The NBA experience and this blog both, the first because it's over, the latter because I am not and never will be a regular blogger.

I am home now, and thought I'd post one last "decompression" entry. Tomorrow is a regular work day, and on the weekend, I'll need to return again to writing. The work-in-progress awaits!

But oh, wasn't it lovely?

I've gotten some email today. "Of course you will have wanted to win, etc." I wanted to talk a bit about that here. Because ... hmm ... how to put this? Yes, of course I would have loved to win the National Book Award. My mom didn't raise no fools!

Yet I sit here this evening, and moreover, there I sat at the Marriott Marquis last night, clapping like mad and with complete sincerity -- trust me -- for Tobin Anderson and OCTAVIAN NOTHING. I didn't and I don't feel even a smidge sorry for myself. And if you are truthful, neither do you feel sorry for me. Be honest. C'mon. Lol.

There were five great books up for this award, and (as one of the judges told me last night, another 30 or 40 that could have equally well have been there instead. "It was heartbreaking to have to cut it down from 50 to 20, and then 20 to 5 nearly killed us.") Now, I do indeed get pissy when I see a book I don't think highly of win a big award. But I knew over a month ago that that wasn't going to be the case here.

And here's a telling vignette. I was sitting at the Penguin table last night, tucking into my lamb, and suddenly I realized that I HAD CLEAN FORGOTTEN to write down a few lines for an acceptance speech, "just in case." I meant to do that. We had been told to do that. I thought it was a good idea. And I am actually not the kind of person who does not prepare. Er, ever.

I must not have expected it, then. But more . . . hm. I think I was already fed.

---

The Day After.

So, let's blog one last time! I have gotten my camera working again, and I have pictures!

Here's what the day after was like for me. I woke, jumped up, dressed, and raced uptown to the Stargate Diner between 88th and 89th, on the west side of Third Avenue, where I was to meet my friend since college, Nancy M. We had breakfast and coffee. We caught each other up on our lives over the past year and a half since we'd last seen each other. And then she had to be a work by 10, so we walked part of the way there, and then I continued on down Lexington, wanting to walk the fifty blocks back to my hotel . . . it was a surprisingly warm day, and I strode along, feeling utterly happy . . .

And then, to my left, what did I see?

A shoe store.

And what was that in the window?

A most extraordinary pair of red shoes!

I bethought me of Carolyn Coman's shoes from the night before (see Wednesday).

In I went.

And then out I came, swinging my bag from the shoestore. Here's the bag:

Here's what was in the bag:

Hahaha! I promise, no more shoes for me for a while. I am all set, I really and truly am. Now that I have these. They were on sale!

And then, I got to walk down Lexington Avenue on a beautiful morning, with my NBA medal in my pocket, swinging a JUBILEE bag with red shoes in it, on my way to my hotel, on my way home.

Thanks for coming on the trip.

Love, Nancy

[Link to Paolo Nutini singing "New Shoes" on YouTube: "Hey, I put some new shoes on, and suddenly everything is right..."]

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