Can we talk about the time I was awakened in the middle of the night to learn I had just won an award? And can we pretend this what I was wearing? 
While this is Edgar Week, there are many prizes given for crime fiction. The Agatha, Barry, Macavity, Nero Wolfe, the Strand, the Hammett -- the list goes on and on. The Anthony is given based on vote by those who attend Bouchercon.
I think I've lost the Anthony as many times as I've lost the Edgar. But I've also won it . . . seven times across three categories.
In 2015, when I learned of my nomination, I had no plans to attend Bouchercon. I was leaving that weekend for my teaching gig in Italy.
But how could I not show up to honor the fans who had nominated me? So I flew into Raleigh, NC, Thursday, left Friday, then flew out of Baltimore Friday night with child and babysitter.
Our flight was hideously delayed and it was a long day of planes, trains and automobiles. We arrived at our hotel in Florence at 10 p.m. local time, scarfed down some dinner and went to bed.
Just as I was falling asleep, my phone began blowing up, as you kids say. After I'm Gone had won the award for best novel. The literal prize was a gorgeous burled wood bowl, which I keep on my desk.
But it now falls on @scottynola and @alisongaylin to dig up the photos of them modeling that bowl as if it were a hat.
I was probably wearing flannel pajamas but as quarantine and this practice stretch on, I feel I'm going to need to devote an entire week to my flannel pajama collection, which is awesome.
