Saturday, November 01, 2014

Literary fame--such as it is

Tonight I went to the induction ceremony of the current class for the Texas Literary Hall of Fame, a project of the Friends of the Fort Worth Public Library. Inductees were Laura Bush (who did not show up), Deborah Crombie, James Mardis, Larry Swindell, former Speaker of the House Jim Wright, and Lawrence Wright. A couple of them I know personally; the others I know by reputation. It was a sparkling occasion, and I decided one reason I like to go is that I get so many hugs from people I don't see often enough. That aside, the heavy hors d'oevres were great--well, there was that mushroom stuffing we couldn't figure out--and the desserts rich, the wine plentiful. And the program just right--each honoree spoke briefly, and none got carried away at the microphone. Newscaster Rebecca Aguilar ran a tight program that lasted slightly over an hour.
For me, there were lots of special moments--Deborah Crombie's books are favorites of mine, and I've met her enough times to feel free to go up and welcome her to Fort Worth (she apparently got lost on the TCU campus), and I remember working with James Mardis when he allowed TCU Press to use a poem in a short Christmas collection; Larry Swindell was book editor of the Fort Worth Star-Telegram and I wrote many a review for him plus considered him a good friend; and I remember, though he probably doesn't, working with Lawrence Wright on the executive committee of the Texas Institute of Letters. He was charming, self-deprecating about his ancestors, and perfectly witty tonight.
As a former inductee, I received a box with a gift--trouble being neither Melinda nor I could figure out how to get into the box. I've put it aside for smarter minds who might come along tomorrow. But it was a nice evening and a gentle reminder that I am a part of the Texas literary scene. Truly, it's a thing I don't always remember, but even if in that scene I'm resting on past literary laurels rather than my contemporary mysteries, I'm grateful. I don't think there's a writer who doesn't have an ego that needs stroking, and I admit freely to being in that category.
Other than that, fall has hit. I woke up cold this morning at six, got up and added an extra blanket  to my nest. Slept until eight. Glad tonight is the fall back night, though I'll probably wake bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at six. It's okay--I have chili and cornbread to make for company.
Lately I've noticed that I go to events that I'm kind of hesitant about and end having a wonderful time. Tonight was one such time. Hope it continues.

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