The Golden Pineapple Award

picture of a pineapple

Two years ago, Writing for the Web became a finalist for a San Diego Book Award. I tried to play it cool and ignore my desire to win. But a friend and colleague, Stephen Gallup, was also up for a San Diego Book Award for his memoir, What About the Boy. He knew before I did that I was a finalist, and naturally, he congratulated me. He said that I would probably win, but that he had very little chance of getting the award, given the competition. I believed him that I would win. I’m not proud of this, but I always think I will win, and I was confident I’d written a good book.

Contests, awards, prizes … all wonderful, when you do win.

How many times have you heard someone say, “I never win anything.” But I’ve won lots of things. When I was little, I tossed a dime into what looked like a huge game of Tiddlywinks in a playpen at a church bazaar. My dime landed in exactly the right spot, and I got a heavy bag full of dimes and quarters and nickels. My parents took me to the most magical place, Boblo Island (once an amusement park on the Detroit River), to spend my riches.

I’ve since won many contests. My sixth grade teacher, Mr. Tyler, kept a winning poem I wrote about our class trip to the Detroit Zoo, which he read to subsequent classes.  I’ve been honorably mentioned, had a winning recipe published in a major magazine, and received exactly one sheepskin car seat cover for the best description of how a kiwi tastes.

In college I won $700, the prize for a major Hopwood Award for Poetry. At the time, $700 was a lot of money, and I thought I was well on my way to a comfortable income from my chosen passion, writing poetry. Yes, clueless about how hard it is for Americans to make money writing stories and poems.

On the night of the San Diego Book Awards event, my husband was by my side. We waited for my category to be announced. It came up quickly. I had practiced a very short acceptance speech, but the only problem was that someone else won the award for Best Nonfiction. What a disappointment. When the memoirs category was announced, I listened for Steve’s name, and sure enough he won it! He got up on the stage, shook hands and accepted his award with a few sincere words at how surprised he was to have won.

It was a long evening. During the drive home, my husband and I made light of the matter. When we walked into our house he spotted a golden-ripe pineapple sitting on the kitchen counter. With one graceful swoop he grabbed it, and announced I had won The Golden Pineapple Award for my excellent book, Writing for the Web.  He sweetly handed me the Golden Pineapple. I thanked him profusely, gave my most humble acceptance speech, and curtsied.

I was a winner after all.