Where are my Mel Brooks fans? In The Twelve Chairs, one of his earliest films, there is a song:
“Even with the best of chances, fate can kick you in the pantses!”
I’m a writer, and one of the things writers do is build a narrative arc, leading you (in this case, an emotional) point A to (a different emotional) point B. But my mind is still afire after last night, and I have decided not to bury the lede.
I am an award-winning author.
That’s point B.
Last night, I attended the Pacific Northwest Writers Association’s annual awards dinner. I had been named a finalist in their 2025 Unpublished Book Contest for the memoir genre, and won third place! As a prize winner, I was invited to the after party, where I canoodled with two agents, both of whom asked me to query them. During the event, an older gentleman approached me and offered both his congratulations and a nugget of advice.
“When you wake up tomorrow morning, tell yourself three times — and it must be three times — that you are an award-winning author.”
I am an award-winning author.
And let’s rewind to point A.
(I wrote this yesterday, before the dinner.)
Something profoundly disappointing happened this past Tuesday morning. I won’t share the details, except to say that something I had wanted for beyond my writing life had been denied to me. It’s eclipse season. Wacky things, unpredictable things happen. And yet, within twenty-four hours, my disposition had changed.
I shared the bad news with three other people that I knew would commiserate and, more importantly, be able to help if and when a similar something appeared on my life’s horizon. My actions didn’t eliminate my disappointment, but they did dilute it.
At the same time, I kept my focus on the many good things currently happening within my life.
My job is increasingly challenging, and I see myself rising to those challenges as I work alongside very talented people.
A good friend is reading my manuscript and has been sharing her praise for my writing decisions.
On Wednesday, a writing colleague named
wrote to let me know he was going to run my answers to his Queer Love questionnaire in yesterday’s edition of his Substack.I have also been doing book design for an amazing author,
, and this past work worked on converting his latest volume, Sentences, from my InDesign layout to a MS Word layout he could use for the release of the ebook version.Hiro wowed me twice this week with his culinary creations, trying a new recipe for teriyaki chicken and making a pot of my favorite rice: sekihan (short grain rice cooked with adzuki beans).
Friday afternoon, Hiro and I sat down with financial advisors and it looks like I’ll be able to retire (and implement our plans to return to Japan) in just over four years time. When we did the math and converted the advisors’ estimated monthly income from both Social Security and my 401K, we realized we will live comfortably in Japan.
And Friday night, some family members flew into town before heading out on a cruise this morning. Hiro and I drove into the city and had dinner with my cousin and her two children, and with my godmother. After dinner, the four adults gathered on the hotel’s roof, sharing family memories and gossip galore. I am at my happiest when watching Hiro react to more Watson and, in this case, McManus lore.
This morning, I wrapped up the revisions to my memoir’s proposal. Tonight, I attend the Pacific Northwest Writers Association’s annual awards dinner. I have been nominated as one of five eight finalists for their Unpublished Book Contest, in the memoir category. My chances of placing are good, three of the five eight of us will earn the chance to speak with an agent.
As excited as I am, however, I realize that I might not win. And Hiro, knowing the ups and downs I’ve experienced in the past five years of writing, cautioned me against getting my hopes up.
And yes, not winning, if that is the outcome, will be disappointing. But as I look back at my week and see how I stepped forward from another disappointment, I know that I will wake up tomorrow morning, win or lose, and use my new proposal to query more agents.
I’ve got a book the world needs to read. I’ve already had many disappointments. I can handle one more.
When they read out my name at the dinner last night, I started shaking. I yelled something unintelligible, (barely) snapped a photo of the display screen, and began my walk to the dais to collect the prize. As I walked past my photo on the screen (a photo which another contestant said should be named Best Author Photo of the Year), I pointed at it and said, “I’m that bitch!”
And that bitch is gonna find an agent!
I’m an award-winning author!
Congratulations! 🎉 May more and more recognition come your way ❤️🩹
Congratulations, Brian Watson, you award-winning author, you! 🏆🏆🏆 (Disclosure: Confidence is shaky at best how to punctuate that, but am so happy you shared your great news!)