Like all authors, I assume, you sit at your computer, typing away all day, and then daydream about winning awards. I don’t know how many times I’ve fantasized about sitting at an awards ceremony waiting for my name to be called out as the winner. The IPPY (formally Independent Publishers Publisher Book Award) is one of the most coveted Indie Awards, and a couple of weeks back I found out I have won a Bronze medal. To be honest, I almost fell off my chair. What’s especially fabulous about the IPPY Awards is that there’s an actual awards ceremony. Think the Oscars, but at a much smaller scale. MUCH smaller. The ceremony will be held at the Copacabana Night Club in Times Square, NYC on Tuesday, May 29th. Conveniently two blocks from my office. There will be free cocktails and appetizers to enjoy for three hours and I’ll receive a gold medal. No acceptance speech needed this time. But guess what? I’ll take it!

Writing is a lonesome endeavor. The Transmigrant, my first published novel, took six years to write. A whole barrage of research backed up the storyline. Hours upon hours upon hours of reading books, watching documentaries, and trying to figure out what REALLY happened to Jesus during those missing years. For a person who is not religious, I know a whole lot about Jesus now. More than most Christians know. How many times have I traveled on a packed subway, clung to a pole with one hand, while reading a book or editing a version of the manuscript with the other? I’ve put down my time, blood, sweat, and tears into this book.

And now, finally, I won an award. Woooohoooo!



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