The Persecuted and the Persecutors

Hoorah! A Very Nice Guy at North End Computers (Weaverville, NC) brought my laptop back to life -- while I waited. He says something probably shorted out and it could happen again but, for the moment, here I am.

I personally suspect that the short may have been due to all the vitriol that was flowing on a particular page on Facebook, shortly before  the laptop went black. I was horrified and fascinated at the same time -- it was like watching a mob gather with pitchforks and torches.

It happened like this. There's a FB group for folks from the Appalachians. Someone invited me to join several years ago and though I'm "not from here," as they say,  I'm interested in the stories about the old times and the pictures and recipes that are the usual fare of this group.  I rarely comment or post but for some folks it seems to be a daily social event. And people are enjoined to stay away from politics or bad language -- unlike a lot of the FB posts I see (and enjoy.) All in all, a pleasant, G-rated sort of place to visit.

Until.  Until one member posted asking if there were any other members of the group who were atheists, agnostics, or unbelievers who would be interested in a FB group for non-religious Appalachian folks.  (There is a lot of JESUS talk in this group and that's never been a problem as far as I know -- folks in Appalachia are probably overwhelmingly Christian by heritage.)

Well, I think this person was just looking for a few like minds to chat with but you would have thought the Devil Incarnate had just posted -- at least according to many of the responses. (It's a big group --  well over a thousand members -- and certainly it was just a small percentage that got so ugly but still, it was kind of terrifying.) 

The poster was told to leave the group, that she was going to hell, that she had no business asking such a question, that she was fat, that she had ruined the group for others, that she was an example of SATAN trying to lure away believers,  that this was an example of the 'war on Christians,'  that that believing in JESUS was a criteria for being Appalachian  . . . (all done without any cursing or vulgar language, for what it's worth.)

As I said, it was kind of terrifying. But then other comments began to come in: other non-believers who were interested, some who said they'd been bullied by Christians all their lives, and some who were Christians and pointed out that this virtual lynching was far from Christian behavior . . .

Finally, when emotions were at a fever pitch,  the moderators deleted the whole thread and told people to get off this subject. The next day, one of the most rabid of the negative commenters apologized to everyone on the list -- except to the unfortunate woman who' d dared to suggest that not everyone on the list was a believer.

It was, for me, a vivid demonstration of how many people fear and feel threatened by the unfamiliar. And it was sad, to see so clearly the hatred just below the surface -- and all in the name of The Prince of Peace.  (In the thick of the verbal battle, one woman kept posting "Merry Christmas' over and over, feeling, I'm pretty sure, that she was fighting the good fight in the war against Christians and Christmas and really sticking it to the godless unbeliever who was threatening her (the Merry Christmas woman) own beliefs.)

I'm shaking my head and thinking, it seems to me that if your faith is threatened by someone else's non-belief, you never had much faith to begin with.

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News Flash - No Joke!

It was a week ago -- over a week -- that the email fell into my in box late at night -- a quiet little bombshell..

Dear Vicki,

Congratulations! You have been nominated for a 2009 Anthony Award. Your book, In a Dark Season, has been nominated in the category for Best Paperback Original. . .

At first I was elated -- a kind of nunc dimittis moment. This is something I've hardly dared to dream of . . . but then, somehow I felt suspicious. Immediately I replied to the email, asking if this was true.

No response.

I emailed my agent and my editor, asking them if they know about this nomination (generally my editor is the one to tell me if something noteworthy has happened.)

No answer -- not a surprise -- it was late at night, as I said. John was out of town and there I sat, wanting desperately to tell someone this good news -- if it was good news and not a cruel joke.

Neither the dogs nor the cats were the least bit interested when I explained to them that the Anthony is one of the mystery genre's most prestigious awards. Even if you don't win, just the nomination is the kind of thing authors have on their book covers or after their name -- as in Vicki Lane - Anthony Nominee.

This fan-based award is tied to Bouchercon -- the mystery convention in the US -- and the nominations come from attendees of the past years as well as those registered for this year. Final voting is done at Bouchercon by those present and the awards are presented on the next-to-last day.

It's a really big deal. And I really wasn't sure . . .

I passed a fretful night.

The next morning I had a cautious email from my editor saying maybe it was true but she was surprised she hadn't heard something and she would check with Publicity.

Then there was a phone call from my agent, delighted and ready to celebrate -- until I told her that the editor and I weren't entirely sure . . .

Poor Ann! By the time we hung up, I had managed to convince her that I just might be the victim of a scam or a practical joker.

Time passed. Slowly. No word from anyone.

Finally, about mid-morning, I decided to email Jim Huang, one of the co-chairs of this year's Bouchercon, and ask if this was for real. I met Jim last year in Baltimore and he was friendly and approachable so I figured that an email from a semi-demented author might not bother him too much. Besides, did I mention I was desperate to know the truth?

And then he answered.

Yes, Vicki, it's true. You are a nominee.

Oh, rapture! Oh, joy!

But, he cautioned, this news isn't to be made public till we release the entire list . . . the following Monday, he said. Which turned out to be Tuesday afternoon.

So I've been writing about chickens and flowers and asparagus instead of shouting this good news from the virtual rooftops of the blogosphere.

But now I can!

WHOOPEE!!!

Talk about gathering rosebuds -- this feels like the whole garden!