Do we need book awards and lists to celebrate the year's "best" books?

I've given this a lot of thought lately, because it's that time of year and because this is the first time I've had a horse in the race—a book of my own.

This year's finalists for The Story Prize were announced this morning. The Story Prize is a tremendous and important effort that shines a bright light upon story collections, and Larry Dark is an advocate-warrior for short fiction. I like Larry, and if his work for The Story Prize and as the former series editor of The O. Henry Prize Stories is any indication, we are kindred readers.

Here are the finalists:

·       The Angel Esmeralda by Don DeLillo (Scribner)

·       We Others by Steven Millhauser (Alfred A. Knopf)

·       Binocular Vision by Edith Pearlman (Lookout Books)

 

Does choosing these three particular titles as finalists for a prize designed to honor the short story and short-story writers ultimately devalue the singular, stand-alone story collection?

Imagine Queen's Greatest Hits or Sam Cooke's Portrait of a Legend, 1951-1964 winning the Grammy for Album of the Year. Here's an idea: Selected Stories, New and Selected Stories, and Collected Stories should not be considered for the Story Prize (TSP).

TSP's website states: "The idea that the short story is a beginner's form, one that novice writers cut their teeth on before turning to the more ambitious work of writing novels, is a common misconception. This year's finalists for The Story Prize show that—to the contrary—top fiction writers often remain devoted to the demanding form of the short story throughout their careers."

 It's hard to argue that Don DeLillo is "devoted to the demanding form of the short story" since this is his first collection. The nine stories in The Angel Esmeralda, written over three decades, emerge as a de facto Selected Stories. While DeLillo has written short stories, he's not exactly a short-story writer, is he? If I may continue my shaky Grammy analogy, this is akin to Jethro Tull being nominated—and winning!—Best Metal Performance in 1988. Don DeLillo, like Jethro Tull, is not metal.

Short stories are metal. Flash the horns and all hail black metal:  \m/     \m/  

[Sorry about that.]

Steven Millhauser has published many novels and story collections. I admire many of his stories. But like DeLillo, Millhauser doesn't need any more attention. He won the Pulitzer Prize, for Pete's sake, and DeLillo has won the National Book Award. Only about 35% of We Others: New and Selected is devoted to new stories. If you already like Millhauser's work, do you really want to pay nearly $30 (assuming you avoid Amazon.com) for a book with only 144 pages of new fiction? By contrast, my book is about that long and costs $14.95; a reader can buy my book and another book of stories for the same price. And if you've been reading Millhauser's stories for years—"The Knife Thrower," anyone?—why would you want to pay twice for the 65% of the book you already have elsewhere on your bookshelves?

Edith Pearlman is clearly "devoted to the demanding form of the short story," and her three previous books, all story collections, found publication because of awards designed specifically to aid writers like her, "a career short story writer whose brilliant work has only recently captured much-deserved attention." Binocular Vision was also a finalist for the most recent National Book Award. It includes 18 stories found in previous books, three stories never collected during that time, and 13 new stories. Pearlman has published more than 250 short stories during her career, and this book is designed to showcase that she's been here all along, quietly chipping away at this good work. While she certainly deserves this recognition, it's a bit disheartening that it comes within months of the National Book Award's attention; this selection has the feel of a student who merely echoes a classmate's comments without contributing anything new to the discussion. Of these three finalists, I hope Binocular Vision  is chosen for the Story Prize and its $20,000 cash award. Maybe it's Pearlman's year.

The Story Prize does nearly everything right, and it awards more money to fiction writers than the National Book Award Foundation. Its open policy means that Larry Dark and Julie Lindsey, an advisory board member, encountered "a field of 92 books that 60 different publishers or imprints submitted in 2011." While the $75 entry fee is pricey for small-press authors and publishers, the fees generated don't come close to covering the cost of the awards—$30,000—given to three writers each year, which means Larry, Julie, and anyone else involved work hard to raise the funds that support this worthwhile endeavor.

Perhaps the Story Prize should consider splintering its efforts into two categories. The first might honor a writer's entire career in the short story form. The second category could honor a stand-alone collection of stories, such as last year's winner, Anthony Doerr's Memory Wall.

I didn't speak up when Tobias Wolff (2008) and Mary Gordon (2006) each won The Story Prize for their New and Selected Stories, but only because the other finalists were singular collections. This trio of books is no doubt excellent. I'll buy all three soon enough. But my sincere hope is for The Story Prize to rise to even greater prominence, to be the equal, perhaps, of the National Book Awards in terms of its reach and influence, which can help boost story collection sales. I think putting its attention back on singular story collections will exponentially boost The Story Prize's relevance. It's not like there weren't excellent contenders this year.

Every single list that fails to mention my story collection is a personal affront that I will never forgive. I don't believe my book made a single list of this kind; if it did, then Google Alerts has also failed me. But please know this: If you published one of these lists online and didn't include Naked Summer, I hate you at least a little bit. And I also hate you, Google Alerts.

Off the top of my head: Michael Kardos, One Last Good Time; Seth Fried, The Great Frustration; Valerie Laken, Separate Kingdoms; Caitlin Horrocks, This Is Not Your City; Patricia Henley, Other Heartbreaks; Shannon Cain, The Necessity of Certain Behaviors; Shann Ray, American Masculine; Alan Heathcock, Volt; Daniel Woodrell, The Outlaw Album; Alethea Black, I Knew You'd Be Lovely; Steve Almond, God Bless America; Ben Loory, Stories for Nighttime and Some for the Day