When Selah was born I had an opportunity to move to the UK to take some postgraduate courses at Sotheby's Institute of Art in London, while Selah's father attended culinary school. But I became sick after her delivery and never recovered. A dream deferred. A residency not taken. And for the past five years I've been too caught up with rehabilitation, divorce, moving back to Atlanta and Kindergarten to think about it. In fact, my disability brought me back to reading and reporting again. It brought me back to my first love-Christ. And a handsome frenchman that adores my daughter.:)
Well, today I got kicked in the ribs when I read in the Scotsman that yesterday the Edinburgh International Book Festival launched the world's largest award for a short story .
The winner of the National Short Story Prize will receive a windfall of £15,000 with the runner-up pocketing £3,000. In what organisers hope will one day grow to the size and prominence of the Booker Prize, the competition aims to honour the country's finest writers of short stories so is only open to authors with a previous record of publication who are either UK nationals or residents.
See what I mean?
Writing to see what the end's gon' be,
Dee
The Pruning Principle
2 years ago
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