Every two years here in Atlanta, GA, a literary prize is given to a Georgia novelist, and this was the year for the Townsend Prize. The prize is sponsored by the literary magazine The Chattahoochee Review (which I worked on years ago), which is now edited by my friend Anna Schachner.
I’ve been to the awards ceremony the last two times it took place, and I went again this year, on Thursday this week, taking my girlfriend to the ceremony, as she’s interested in writing, and I thought she might find it engaging. The event was held in downtown Decatur at the old courthouse, which is architecturally fairly striking, and also far too small to be of much practical use as a courthouse, so the old courthouse now contains a small history museum downstairs and a meeting space upstairs, where the award was given.
When we went upstairs we found a room filled with round tables, covered with tablecloths, and for a nice touch, a pot of live hydrangeas on each table. In a corner, a group of three musicians was playing soft jazzy versions of country and western music, or at times simply leaning over into pure jazz, because sometimes an acoustic bass just wants to do that.
Another nice way to begin the evening was with a drink, and at the back, a small bar was set up on either side of the room for beer or wine. Having two bars was how you could tell that this was a literary event. In another room, a buffet had been set up with hors d’oeuvres (if you can call a mighty tasty pimento cheese an hors d’oeuvre—I don’t know whether the French make pimento cheese), so we had food, and drink, and music, and we were content with our neighbors waiting for the literary celebration to begin.
When the ceremony was underway, Anna explained that the process of choosing the Townsend winner began with seven people reading 27 nominated novels, from which 10 finalists were chosen. At that point, three outside readers, living in other states, were asked to read the books and comment on them. Based on their comments, a winner was chosen. The ten finalists this year were:
- The Guineveres by Sarah Domet
- Over the Plain Houses by Julia Franks
- The Opposite of Everyone by Joshilyn Jackson
- Lilac Girls by Martha Hall Kelly
- The Lemon Jell-O Syndrome by Man Martin
- Lightning Men by Thomas Mullen
- The Half Wives by Stacia Pelletier
- Among the Living by Jonathan Rabb
- Shadow of the Lions by Christopher Swann
- The Hidden Light of Northern Fires by Daren Wang
I was pleased to see Stacia Pelletier in the room, as I had read another novel by her when she was nominated for this same prize four years earlier. Last year when I had a book release for my collection of short stories (I’d Tear Down the Stars), Stacia was also generous enough to attend and be a reader with me, reading from her work. I wasn’t aware that she was nominated for the Townsend this year until I went to her table to say hello.
Before the winner of the prize was announced, a keynote speaker talked, and this year the speaker was the writer Brad Watson, who talked about what inspired him in writing his latest novel, Miss Jane. Brad is from Mississippi, but now living in Wyoming. So he has the southern thing, whatever that might be. From his comments about his writing and his life as a writer, I wrote down a line, which I think captured the dilemma of writers who do the kind of work I do: “I think almost all literary writers have to have a day job.” With few exceptions, we work and we write when we can. For Brad, that day job is teaching writing in academia.
And the winner of the Townsend prize this year, as you already see from my illustration, was Julia Franks for her novel Over the Plain Houses. After she was announced as winner, Julia spoke for a few minutes. In her remarks, she made a point of thanking those institutions and resources outside the publishing machine in New York: small regional publishers, local bookstores, literary festivals, and local reviewers and websites. For many literary writers, these are critical resources.
In additional, regional literary awards such as the Townsend prize help to encourage writers in a field of endeavor that can feel lonely and unrewarded for a very long time. There was only one winner, but all of the finalists had spent long hours to earn the right to be sitting there.