You know what they say: Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. To illustrate, may I submit Exhibit A: Doris Lessing?

Last week, she was awarded the Nobel Prize for literature. But you would have thought she'd been slapped in the face, for all the excitement she displayed.

The author, who turns 88 next week, learned of the award after coming home from a shopping outing, at which time she was met by a mob of reporters all eager to scribble down her glowing reaction. Only one thing was missing: the glowing part.

"Oh, Christ," she said, " . . . I couldn't care less." And she didn't stop there: "This has been going on for 30 years. I've won all the prizes in Europe, every bloody one, so I'm delighted to win them all, the whole lot, OK? It's a royal flush."

Why was she so cranky?

Well, how would you feel if someone asked you on a date - decades after spurning you in the most humiliating fashion - and expected you to fawn all over them?

Turns out that in the '60s, the Nobel committee "sent one of their minions especially to tell me they didn't like me at the Nobel Prize and I would never get it," Lessing told BBC Radio. "So now they've decided they're going to give it to me. So why? I mean, why do they like me any better now than they did then?"

Lessing's hurt feelings aside, this development reminds us of the fickle nature of awards - even those as prestigious as the Nobel. The makeup of the judging committee, changing sensibilities, the patronizing, though well-intentioned, urge to recognize those whose lifetimes have been spent in the service of their art - many factors indicate that timing is everything.

In this case, the timing also made for a woman unwilling to hold her tongue. Let's face it, at age 87, why would she?

Still, after reporters told Lessing of the Nobel committee's flattering remarks, the author softened. It seemed she might be willing to attend this prom after all.

"I've won it. I'm very pleased and now we're going to have a lot of speeches and flowers and it will be very nice," she said - no doubt to the relief of all concerned.

Survey or sales pitch?

Men lie about reading classic books. That's the assessment of a recent eMusic survey that found that one in five men, ages 18-34, have "pretended to read a classic book in order to impress someone or because they feel they ought to have read it." That's an interesting tidbit for your next cocktail party - but why is eMusic suddenly interested in classical literature? The company is launching a new audiobooks service and is looking for press.

Hey, one in five books editors - especially during a slow week - are happy to oblige.

Book clubs

The new Oprah book, if you haven't heard, is Love in the Time of Cholera, by Gabriel Garc'a Márquez.

Meanwhile, don't forget about the One Book, One Denver pick, Articles of War, by Nick Arvin. In the wake of the epic Ken Burns documentary about World War II, the book is especially timely, as it deals with a man struggling with his fears during battle. Discussions are ongoing around town. For times and locations, go to denvergov.org.

Inspired titles

You Can Lead a Politician to Water, But You Can't Make Him Think: Ten Commandments for Texas Politics, by Kinky Friedman (Simon & Schuster, $25). And this man didn't get elected to office? Recount!