Today has been an interesting day to say the least.
I started the day with a heart-swell: my editor at The Globe and Mail forwarded me some delightful and lovely readers comments they had received on my essay that was published the other day. (Fanks for reading, everyone!) So that was a shot in the arm.
Then I received notification that I’ve been nominated for the 2018 Allan Slaight Prize for Journalism.
Wait . . . say that again? What?
The $10,000 prize celebrates the journalistic contributions by independent writers who have researched and examined some of the more pressing and timely issues of the day. And, apparently, this essay of mine that was published in The Walrus is the kind of stuff they’re jonesing for.
That piece — of which I am hugely proud, and was a joy to write (high-five to my editor!) — detailed my experience of developing a roll of film I found on the curb and then searching for the lost photographer.
But have you seen the other 9 nominees for this award? THEY’RE JOURNALISTIC HEAVYWEIGHTS. We’ve got Justin Ling (I started reading every word he published when we were both writing for VICE), Stephen Marche (I loved his first novel, and even gushed to him about it at his book launch at Hart House . . . like a psychopath), Kamal Al-Solaylee (true story: I cited much of his stuff in my Masters thesis), and even the guy who won the award last year! I mean, come on! I am indeed in excellent company and I am huge fans of all the other nominee’s work. I’m honoured to be named amongst them!
They say it’s an honour just to be nominated.
Fam, lemme tell ya, I’m just honoured they even know who the hell I am. Do you know how many pieces The Walrus publishes each year? Scores! I have no idea how my wee lil’ longform essay struck their fancy above everything else the award committee had to consider, but I am eternally humbled, delighted, pleased, obliged, and I may or may not have happy-cried a few times (Don’t tell anyone, I have a reputation to keep).
I’ve never been nominated for an award that I didn’t apply for myself. So this is new territory for me. I’ve always felt like an outsider in the Canadian writing community (It’s full of white men, and I’m a woman and an ethno-cultural minority. Many doors were slammed in my face because editors didn’t think my stories would resonate with – you guessed it – white men). So to be recognised in this manner is hugely meaningful to me.
Maybe I’ll win, maybe I won’t. But lemme tell ya — ya homegirl already feels like a winner.
One final note – today ended on a high-note as well. After every joyful thing that transpired today, I went grocery shopping, and this guy walks up to me in the chocolate aisle (as you do) and asks, “Is your name Christine?”
“Yeahhhhh,” I said tentatively.
“I follow you on Twitter, I read all of your stuff.”
…Pause for the length of the Old Testament…
“Wait. Have we ever met before?”
Guys, if ever there was a day to feel sassy, today was that day.
Fanks for all the support, my munchkins. I will keep you updated as things develop!
Don’t forget to check out the official Christine Estima dot com for more of my published works!
November 20, 2018 | Categories: academic essays, celebrity friends, Christine Estima, contest, creative writing, portfolio, writing | Tags: Allan Slaight Award, author, award, Canada, canadian women writers, Christine Estima, Christine Estima VICE, christine estima writer, columnist, creative writing, editorial, essay, essayist, Journalism, journalism award, Journalist, journalist award, op-ed, publishing, Short story, the globe and mail, the walrus, writer, writing | Leave a comment