I wasn’t shortlisted and I didn’t win the TAG Hungerford Award. Yes, it stung a little at first, but the disappointment pretty quickly gave way to optimism. As is my mantra: onwards and upwards; school work to finish, short stories to write, little (and big!) boys to cuddle. Let’s face it, I wouldn’t be a REAL writer if I didn’t experience the painful pangs of rejection. I’ve never had my heart broken by a man (lucky me you say?!), so this kind of thing is probably the closest I’ll get to understanding that kind of angst.
The angst couldn’t possibly prevail though; not when I have the love and support of so many friends and family members. I didn’t cry when I didn’t win, but I did tear up a little when a friend texted: ‘You have made your friends and family proud.’ I damn outright cried when my 6 year old son, Thom, ran into my room the morning after the award ceremony and told me: ‘Great try Mum!’ He had made me a ‘Good Try’ necklace too. Thom had already claimed $10 from the $12 000 prize and I thought his six year old self might be more preoccupied with the fiscal loss than my feelings. His developing empathy is more wonderful than any career high could ever be.
Justin was a great support. I may have squeezed his hand harder than I did during labour!
How could one NOT be happy when their beloved provides a bouquet like this?!