February 2007

The last time I remember getting an award for anything was in 5th grade, when my class voted me “Best Sport.” I interpreted this, correctly, to mean that I wasn’t good enough to receive any other award, and in fact, I wasn’t a very good sport about it.

So I don’t quite know what to do about this: My novel, The Pale Blue Eye, has just been nominated for an Edgar Award. Thing is, I know from Edgar Awards. I’ve been following them since 1977, when they introduced me to a writer named Robert Parker. Tony Hillerman, Margaret Maron, Thomas Cook, Dick Francis … the Edgars have been my Baedeker guide to the elite of the mystery and crime field.

Now if I were to be the good sport that I most certainly was NOT in 5th grade, I would say the following: “What an honor to be nominated. Of course, the idea of authors competing against each other is so silly, and all of the people listed here are eminently worthy of this award.”

But if I were to be honest, I would quote J.T. Leroy, who—um—has now been proven to be fictitious but who contacted me when I favorably reviewed his/her first novel and offered the following commendation: “Kwool!”

So … kwool. And if you feel like crossing your fingers or pitching some salt over your shoulder on my behalf, go right ahead. The award ceremony will take place in New York on April 26. Joan and Melissa Rivers will NOT be standing out front, but I’ll be there, rehearsing my “good sport” mantra: “It’s the honor … it’s the honor….”