Congrats, Patrick Modiano

It is that time of year again. Yesterday, French novelist Patrick Modiano was awarded the 2014 Nobel Prize for literature. According to the BBC, at a press conference in Paris, Modiano said he was not expecting to be awarded the Nobel and that, “It was like I was a bit detached from it all, as if a doppelganger with my name had won.”

Why do I always do this, congratulate the recent Nobel award-winning author every fall? Hmm… I’m not sure. Back in the day (a couple years ago) I guess I felt some kind of very basic kinship with Nobel authors. They are writers just like me, just like Bobblehead, just like all the dedicated keyboard pounders worldwide. I still feel that way. Plus, the recognition they receive from the Nobel Academy is laudable. It is a noble thing to be recognized for, as the Swedish Academy puts it, “the most outstanding work in an ideal direction.” (No one should write to win awards, though — they should write to write and accept the awards humbly if they come and then keep writing.)

But what I question now is why I need to…

Actually, I think I just answered my own question. It’s funny how that works, isn’t it? Often, I don’t know what I think or why I do something until I write about it.

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