ACFW

Or as I affectionately call them, the booty awards. (Technically, the Book of the Year Awards.)

Since I put my name on the judging sheets and since I suspect I judged them harder than others did, I thought I'd write a note here about my philosophy on judging them.

To me, it's like judging the Olympics rather than the five-year-old competition or judging for the spot in the symphony rather than high school State orchestra. It's judging the books as published books, not against anyone who's ever typed a phrase.

The Genesis award was announced last. And my category was second-to-last. Which means I didn't eat much of the steak dinner or cheesecake dessert.

About halfway through, maybe somewhere along the BOTY awards, I thought of the perfect thank-you line. I wanted to win so I could use that line.

Nononononono! I jinxed myself by thinking of that line. Go away, line. Get out of my head.

This time tomorrow, I'll be halfway to Minneapolis,

I saw halfway because my plane leaves at the ungodly hour of 7:30. A.M. In the morning.

As I told my Twitterees, when I'm queen of the world, I'm outlawing mornings.

I had these brilliant things to say to you about writing. I had a carnival (or party) to announce--I'm really excited about it! But I'll leave those things for next week. (As well as thoughts on the ACFW conference and judging the BOTY contest, which I affectionately dubbed the booty conteset.)