Another campfire tale from Rawhide Robinson.

Rawhide Robinson, the ordinary cowboy who often finds himself in extraordinary situations, has news. This time—unlike his usual campfire anecdotes—it’s true from beginning to end.

Western Fictioneers, an international organization of professional authors who write about the Old West, recently announced the winners of their 2016 Peacemaker Awards. You may recall that earlier, I wrote that Rawhide Robinson Rides the Tabby Trail: The True Tale of a Wild West CATastrophe—was named a Finalist for Best Western Novel for Young Adults, and I promised an update if there were any developments.  

Well, it won.

That sentence probably deserves an exclamation point, but I try to follow Elmore Leonard’s advice and limit myself to two or three for every 100,000 words of prose. But don’t let the lack of a punctuation mark fool you—I am surprised and stunned and happy and honored to have a book I created win an award named after Samuel Colt’s most famous creation. Rawhide Robinson Rides the Tabby Trail: The True Tale of a Wild West CATastrophe is available in hardcover and e-book and will make enjoyable reading for book lovers from junior high school to geriatric age.

Finally, since cat videos are so popular on the Internet, I’ve posted the little promotional video for the book. Click on it and take a look. (Spoiler alert: it does, in fact, include cats.)

Lies They Tell Writers, Part 24: Awards Matter.

Winning awards is nice. Getting a certificate in the mail can be satisfying. Hanging a plaque on the wall is gratifying. Standing up in a crowded banquet hall to give an acceptance speech can be downright uplifting.

But does it matter?

Most everyone in the book business thinks so. We fill out entry forms and enter awards competitions and hope the judges recognize the brilliance of our work. We herald our accomplishments in press releases and author bios and on book covers.

Trouble is, there are too many awards.

You’re hard pressed nowadays to find a writer who’s not billed as an “award-winning author.” As a result, awards are good for the ego, but you have to wonder if they’re good for much else.

I have been honored by winning the Western Writers of America Spur Award. Everyone who’s anyone in the world of Western literature will tell you Spur Awards—along with the Wrangler Award from the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum—are as good as it gets; the most prestigious recognition there is.

But beyond those in the know, it would be difficult to find a reader who knows the difference between a hard-to-get award like a Spur or a Wrangler and the kind they pass out by the pallet load for doing little more than getting your name on a book cover—including books you publish yourself.

Given this state of affairs, is there any value to winning an award?
I don’t know. I’ll think about it.

But for now, you’ll have to excuse me—I’ve got to fill out the entry forms for another award competition.