The Independent Publisher Awards (the "IPPY's") are in the final stages of judging, and the results will be announced on Friday. My book Out of Place Out of Time is under consideration... and I haven't felt this nervous in a long time. It's interesting to note that while I'm on the record as not caring much about awards and recognition, I've suddenly realized that my palms are sweating, and that this award would mean an awful lot to me. I mean, yeah... I'm in this for the art of it, not to make money or become the next [insert name of sell-out author here]. But just one little award wouldn't hurt, would it? And if one little award is OK, then why not one of the most influential awards in the independent publishing community? I mean, it's the logical next step!
Oh wait, there go those delusions of grandeur again! To put things in perspective, there are 2,067 competing titles, spread out over 55 categories. Assuming an even distribution of categories (unlikely), that's 37.58 competing titles. There is one winner and two finalists per category, narrowing the playing field considerably.
As you can see, I'm obsessing about this.
:-)