I’m a (tiny) prize winning author

Do you remember I sent in a story for a writing contest? For the first time ever? Well, it won! My story was chosen as the winner by the jury.

The contest took place in November and originally the award ceremony was scheduled for December, but due to lockdown, they wanted to postpone the event, hoping for a moment when they would be allowed to organise the ceremony in person. As restrictions got extended even further they caved in and opted for an online event instead. That event took place last night.

All nominees were invited to read their story and a wonderful singer sung a few songs in between. Nobody knew who the winners would be, except for the jury of course. The organiser first invited the first six stories, those who didn’t win a prize, in random order. So there was a bit of tension building up during the night. I constantly expected to be the next one to be asked to read, but to my biggest surprise I was not part of the first six. That meant my story ended up in the top 3. Clearly my story became third, so I thought. But I wasn’t called for third position. Then it was between me and one other candidate. The jury started reading an intro about who became second. What? That’s not the theme of my story. Wait. What?! I won? I won!

That came as a surprise. I feel flattered that others liked my story. It’s a great compliment. Winning wasn’t my goal writing this story. I thoroughly enjoyed doing some research about the town I now call my home and then imagining what could have happened centuries ago. Nevertheless, it’s great to know that is was a good story after all. A big encouragement to keep writing. And show them to others.