$100 for best personal essay. Woo hoo! You can find it online here and they're going to publish the essay this spring. Steve's friend from high school just won a freaking Newbury for her book, which kind of makes my little prize look like doggie crap in comparison. But, really, there wouldn't even have been cause for comparison had the two prizes not been given out at roughly the same time. It *does* bother me that she won a Newbury, though. Not because she doesn't deserve it; she does. She's a fabulous writer. It's just that . . . well . . . I think that part of success is believing that something is *possible.* Steve's friend always made me think that it was *possible* that I'd publish a book someday. I mean, she's about my age. She has a baby boy about my son's age. We live in the same part of Utah. We both have a Master's degree. We write the same kind of fiction. She's just like me--only successful. And I always thought the fact that she'd published a book meant that I might publish a book someday, too. But then when she went and won the freaking Newbury, it occurred to me that, no, maybe she's just an anomaly. Because the Newbury . . . that's HUGE. It's more than even really, really, great writer's can aspire to. (It's the YA equivalent of a Pulitzer or something.) But, anyway. Enough about her and her now-fabulous-career. I won a little writing contest and it made me feel really good.