Chapter 75 - The National Book Awards Gala in New York City
In November, the National Book Awards Gala brought together the nation’s finest authors, critics, and intellectuals for a glittering evening at Cipriani Wall Street in New York City.
I wore a stunning, elegant emerald-sequined evening gown—a subtle nod to the dress Donna had worn years earlier at my very first faculty gala—paired with a tailored black velvet blazer. As I walked down the grand red carpet, flashbulbs popped continuously from literary journalists and news reporters eager to interview the economist who had captivated the nation's literary conscience.
When the non-fiction category winner was announced, the presenter smiled broadly toward the center table. "And the National Book Award for Non-Fiction goes to... Dr. Chloe Watson, for Invisible Hands!"
The applause was thunderous, filling the magnificent marble hall as hundreds of authors and intellectuals rose to their feet. I walked up to the podium, taking a steady breath, and looked out over the brilliant sea of faces.
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"For a long time, I believed that success meant escaping the rooms where hard work was hidden," I said into the microphone, my voice carrying crystal-clear across the grand hall. "I was wrong. Success means shining a light so bright on those rooms that no one can ever pretend they don't exist again. This award belongs to every single foundational worker who keeps the world running while everyone else is asleep."
The standing ovation lasted for over three minutes. As I stepped off the stage holding the heavy bronze National Book Award medal, I knew that the circle was fully complete.
