I woke up Tuesday morning to discover that my dystopian science fiction novella Death Shop is nominated for the 2016 eFestival of Words Best of the Independent eBook Awards.
Now, I swear, this is not one of those things that I found in my spam folder, “Just $50 and You Too Can be an Award-Winning Author!”
Really, I swear.
Nope, someone, some generous and charitable soul, a regular Heinleinian Mother Theresa, actually said they liked Death Shop, my worst-selling title!
I swear, I didn’t pay that person either and, as far as has been disclosed to me, they’re not a relation.
And then another person at the eFestival of Words, a serious and reputable organization, actually checked out my book and decided it was kosher. They’re not endorsing it, of course. They won’t guarantee you a good time, but they decided it was acceptable.
And now Death Shop is 1 of 22 indie books nominated for an award in the science fiction category.
I feel like a quantum wave function collapsed in the wrong direction in another dimension and I’m in an alternative universe, where cats are actually rats and we keep rats in order to trap and eat the cats, and, well, it’s like a scene out of Philip K. Dick’s Lies, Inc. where I just don’t understand.
Returning to this reality, one I can frequently grok a little better, you can pick up Death Shop for 99¢ today and tomorrow. Judge for yourself. Is Death Shop a decent little story worthy of fiction valhalla? Or did I actually buy this out of the spam folder?
Or was it Dr. Doolittle in the study with the Kindle Oasis? I don’t know. I’m so confused. Help.