Yet my adult cynicism doesn’t prevent me from craving one of those shiny things for myself. In the early days of this blog, when the modal number of comments accruing to my posts was zero, I even toyed with the idea of creating an award of my own – well they’ve got to come from somewhere – to bestow on the kindly few who deigned to visit. All that held me back was my husband’s refusal to knuckle down to the necessary artwork and the lack of a suitable moniker.
I’m pleased to announce that my moment has come and I’ve been recruited to that glorious congregation of lauded bloggers. Norah Colvin has passed on the Liebster Award, designed to recognise those beavering away with fewer than 200 followers. Having enjoyed interacting with Norah on Twitter, and reading her passionate posts about early-years education on her blog and her generous comments on mine, I’m honoured that Annecdotal is one of the blogs she wants to recognise. It’s all the more welcome when Norah isn’t a woman to deliver empty praise, but engages with the attentive curiosity which must be the blogger’s truest reward.
Even so, I’ve had to overcome my inbuilt anxiety about falling foul of the rules (so many ways to get it wrong) to embrace this with the appropriate sense of fun. But I’m looking forward to selecting another ten worthy recipients and setting them my own set of questions.
I’m wondering if this chain-letter process is what’s needed to introduce more democracy into the anachronism that is the British honours system. Now that I’m acquainted with a couple of people who’ve been delighted with their MBEs – each with a much larger group of followers who are delighted on their behalf – I can recognise that it works for some. But what if those who were granted membership of the British Empire – I know! – were then empowered (without having to plough through the arduous application process) to pass it on to other deserving cases? I’d be interested to see how that one panned out.
Now I’m on a roll, I’ve got my candidate for the Nobel Peace Prize lined up. Never mind those politicians who are slightly less warlike than those who went before them, I’d like to honour the man who risked everything to manufacture affordable sanitary protection for women in rural India. It’s an uplifting tale of generosity and bloody-minded (no pun intended) creativity and the perfect antidote to my short story Bathroom Suite.
As you see, I’m milking this award for all it’s worth, and holding back on fulfilling my responsibilities in terms of answering and posing questions until another post. Or perhaps I’m doing justice to Norah’s intriguing questions by giving my responses time to marinate. I’ve almost got my answers ready, but I’m planning to bring you another instalment in my series on fictional therapists first. In the meantime, what’s your take on award systems in whatever walk of life?