The Nobel Prize Winner

The Nobel Prize Winner

Yes, this is happening in real time. After so much self-doubt, major setbacks, super triumphs and more effort poured out of a soul then seems humanly possible, you are heading to accept your Noble Prize for Literature. You are fashionably late not because you are a snob, but because you needed to calm your nerves.

Your first book, Red Sun Rising didn’t do much, but the sequel Black Day in America caught everyone’s attention. It was so groundbreaking that it pulled Red Sun Rising out of the bargain bins.

But that was just the start. Life On Yellow Dog River was a major breakthrough; the novel sold almost twenty-five million copies. The movie that appeared two years later was a blockbuster and put you on the literary map forever. They went back and films from the first two releases were made receiving critical approval.

The Green Tide of Saratoga Beach was a heartwarming tale. The Purple Heart of Sheffield County scooped up the few remaining humans on the planet that had never heard of you or weren’t fans. The Blue Life of Emma Carson was earth-shattering. After the third novel, people were talking Nobel Prize.  

Who wins a Nobel Prize after only three novels?

So you have worked on our acceptance speech for days, weeks, months ever since it was announced that you had won. It started out as a thank you to all of those that helped you climb the ladder and you didn’t walk over anyone; they were all very special rungs that moved things along.

But the speech was a little boring. So you decided to cut all the thank you’s to everyone and their brother and sister, but felt guilty. So the address was worked over once again.  

But then, you realized that there was no speech that could ever be properly written. What you had to say had to come from the heart. And that is what you will tell everyone.

So you are fashionably late for the greatest moment in your life. You have decided to go alone and have everyone meet you there. Your family will be there and friends and other writers that you have always admired. There will be people from all phases of your life and some that you have never met but are dying to say hello. 

This is your night, your shining moment.

You arrive anticipating glitz and glory come flooding your way. You don’t want to flaunt it, but you want to bask in that love and admiration. It is like the perfect bath with the perfect amount of hot and cold water and bubble soap.

Strangely, there is no one to greet you outside. Where are your adoring fans? Where is the paparazzi? Where is the regular media?

You walk into the building and it is empty. The tables are all dressed up and the place looks like something that is out of a Hollywood movie. But there isn’t one soul in the entire place.

“Hello? Where is everyone?”

Maybe they are hiding underneath the tables so they can yell surprise?

You nervously peak under a table and there is nobody hiding.

Then you start to think that maybe you had the wrong night. You take out your phone and no you have the right date and time.

So where is everyone? This is your night and no one is there to share it.

This is ridiculous. It is incredulous. It is preposterous. 

But it is real. It is a raw deal. It has no appeal.

So what are you going to do? You can sit there for a while and wait for someone to show up or go back home with your tail between your legs.

But there is something in you that won’t let things go. This was supposed to be your night. You have worked so damn hard at getting here. So what if nobody showed up?  

You form a plan. You are going to record yourself at the place and send it out to the world. And this is what you do.

“Hello, Nobel Prize Committee, family, friends and the rest of the world especially my devoted fans. You are probably wondering what I am doing but it is very simple. Tonight, I was supposed to receive my Nobel Prize but when I arrived here nobody - and I mean nobody was here.

But that’s okay because I am a grown woman. I am a tough lady who has survived her fair share of obstacles in life. I’ve paid my dues and taken my bumps and bruises. I’ve been down looking up at the impossible mountain that had to be climbed and did it.  

I like to think I did it with style. I went about things my way, worked very hard and created a path through the literary world that was my own. I had other writers that were my heroes, my mentors, my guiding light. But, I had my own writing voice.

So no one showed up tonight. So what? I still won the Nobel Prize. I worked damn hard to win it. Nobody gave me anything and the road was not paved with ease but with grit and determination and sweat.

I have always been lucky to have a strong supporting cast. As a child, my parents were always behind my ambitions and goals. My younger siblings were the perfect audience as I practiced and honed my craft telling them stories at night while tucking them in.

My friends were always cheering me on every time I reluctantly let then read a story. They told me it was good when it was good and told me it was bad when it was bad. How much more honesty do you want from friends?

I had teachers who became sounding boards and a shoulder to cry on when things weren’t going my way. They believed in me. Later on, I was lucky to meet some of my writing heroes and they encouraged me to keep striving and driving.

I met my husband in college. He critiqued one of my stories for the college rag and wasn’t too kind about it. We had a cup of coffee to talk it over, fell in love and started a partnership and friendship that has lasted over forty years.

I was blessed with two daughters who understood that mommy had something important to do. They became self-sufficient at a young age and were always championing my latest work. When both your daughters name you as their number one hero in a class assignment your heart swells.

While many have been in my corner, it is the fans that love and cherish my books that are the greatest asset. You have always been there with a question or a suggestion that enabled me to see things outside the box and to accept the bigger picture.

In closing, I would like to say that it is too bad that this night didn’t go as planned. But, that’s okay, because I am strong and know that it will be rescheduled. Thank you for everything.”

You stop it and hit play and like what you’ve said. Then you hit the button and send it out to the world.

Then with a somewhat heavy heart, you look around the room and envision all of the invited guests and the Nobel Prize Committee people, your family and friends all smiling and basking in your what was supposed to be your night.

You hold up your head and walk outside ready to go home.  

As you walk outside the whole world is waiting for you.

Your heart and mind aren’t coordinated and reactions are mixed and go separate ways.

“What is all of this?

Your husband laughs.

“We just wanted to make this night special, honey like all of your work.”

The official from the Nobel Prize Committee steps up.

“Yes, so we made it look like the whole thing had fallen through. But, in reality, we were waiting for you to arrive and then go inside thinking that everything had been forgotten. It was a hoax. We on the Committee decided that something new had to happen tonight. It was time to get out of the usual rut.”

“It is like your novels. They always went outside the box and made people think on a social, political and personal level. So what better way to celebrate your incredible body of work and artistry then mirroring your informative, wonderful novels?

“I don’t know what to say?”

“I do. Let’s all go inside and party!”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

So you are about to lead the charge when they pick you up and carry you in the place. You are like the high school hero that caught the winning pass for the home team in the big game. The camera crews from around the world tape get involved. Your Nobel Prize award night will go down in history.

From this point on, you decide to never be fashionably late for any event ever again.