Late November, the week before Thanksgiving, Seraphine’s phone rang during breakfast chaos James throwing oatmeal, Charlotte negotiating about what constituted acceptable school shoes. “Seraphine Ashton?” An unfamiliar voice. “This is Katherine Walsh from the Academy. I’m calling with advance notice that your film has been shortlisted for several Oscar categories. Official nominations won’t be announced until January, but we wanted to give you early indication.” Seraphine’s heart stopped. “Which categories?” “Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actress, Best Original Screenplay, Best Cinematography. Possibly more. The film is performing exceptionally well with Academy voters.” After hanging up, Seraphine stood frozen in her kitchen, phone in hand, trying to process. Another Oscar nomination. Potentially Best Picture again. Her second film in competition after winning for the first. “Mama! My oatmeal is WRONG! It’s too LUMPY!” Charlotte’s complaint broke through her thoughts. “Cha
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