Wearing of the Green

Somewhere deep in my DNA, there's a slender strand of Irish stuff. So in honor of that and today's date, let's talk about the wearing of the green.

Not flattering shades of emerald, jade, sea-foam or even teal. I'm talking about the color of jealousy. We writers all get jealous. It's in our nature. We hear about another author who gets a big advance, gets a book tour or a full-page color ad on the back of the New York Times Arts section. And we start looking like this:
Not a pretty sight, is it. I am thinking about this today because of an acquaintance of mine. Not a friend so much as a colleague who I bump into at conferences and meetings. He has written twelve really good mysteries. He's had critical success. His publisher still loves him. But he is all bent out of shape this week about the Edgar Award nominations. When the awards were announced a while back, he ordered all the books in his category from Amazon and read them. Then the emails started: Why can't I get nominated? These books aren't better than mine. Is it because I write such-and-such?

I listened for a while. But you know, at some point you just tune this kind of thing -- and person -- out. Not that I am immune from jealousy. Believe me, I can rant about this with the best of them. But I vent to Kelly (or she to me) and we try to forget about it. Because -- and I don't mean to get all-Oprah on you here -- wearing this kind of green takes a lot of energy. Energy that you could be putting toward more positive things. Like, for me, finishing chapter 2.

And that is where I am going right now. Back to that chapter that's giving me fits. But first, my wishes to you for a happy St. Patrick's Day. Wear your green proudly today:
Or like this:

Or even this:

Just don't get caught looking like this:
As the Irish prayer goes: May the road rise to meet you. May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face. And rains fall soft upon your fields. And until we meet again, May God hold you in the hollow of His hand.

To which I can only add: May you write well and long.