My phone rang while we were in the car. My daughter was behind the wheel, learning how to drive, slowing to a corner. Because I was a little stressed and a lot concentrating on helping her maneuver into a proper parking space, I let the call go to voicemail. Later, once we’d parked, I checked the message. The Pacific Northwest Writers Association had called to tell me my novel, The Dark Petals of Provence, was a finalist for the 2020 book contest. What? I listened to the message three times.…