Unfortunately it seems to have suffered from the awful blight of the public-private partnership, originating from an earnest sense of civic duty and formed in the public servants cure-all for everything - the banal concept of the so-called "expert group".

It was on this expert group's recommendation that a partnership was born between the award's administrator, Dublin public libraries, and its funding source, Impac Integrated Systems. This year's winner will be announced on Thursday. But no matter how good the triumphant novel, since its conception in 1996, the award has lacked any real vigour and seems to have earned nothing more than international indifference, and minimal national curiosity at best. When the best publicity you can muster is Lorraine Keane covering your award ceremony for a snippet on TV3 News, then you know you're in trouble. It's a poor return for an award with a once lofty ambition that now merely lumbers along without any real publicity buzz.

To gauge whether the Impac has any real value you have to compare it to the competition, and as literary awards go, the Man Booker is the one to beat. The mere fact that the Impac has always been touted as the world's richest literary prize was always a statement of intent, a kind of literary equivalent of a snot-nosed rookie stepping in to the ring to take on an ageing heavyweight.

But what has happened since 1996 has been the waste of a great opportunity marred by a curious ineptitude and a distinct lack of media nous.

The Man Booker has always been intentionally provocative.

The Impac has only come close to the Man Booker's level of notoriety on one occasion with Michel Houellebecq's turgid winner Atomised in 2002. As Booker and Impac-nominated Sebastian Barry says "The Booker was set up very much to stimulate the literary world, in the area of serious books, and it has achieved that by a very great application to publicity. There was until recently just one man at the head of the Booker, utilising the media in very adroit ways, creating tension and expectation and controversy." The Impac by comparison has always lacked that ruthless instinct for what makes both the media and publishing industry tick.

The Man Booker also has the public relations behemoth that is the Colman Getty Agency behind it, while the Impac has one lone PR person. This in itself points to a lack of willingness by its private sponsor to invest in the kind of resources that have helped sex-up the Man Booker. The IMPAC prize money was also reduced from �100,000 to Euro100,000 after the euro changeover, and while it still remains the world's single largest literary prize a certain level of miserliness has set in since, which hasn't helped in invigorating a rather tired award. Thriftiness even extends to the award dinner which is only attended by the winning author. The Booker on the other hand has no qualms about flying in shortlisted nominees and giving them all a slap-up meal in front of the world's media.

The Impac award also suffers from a lack of immediacy which is so precious to the Booker and most publishers. An Impacnominated book might be two years in the public domain before the Impac judging process reaches its end. Last year's winner Colm Toibin points out that all writers know about the Impac award "but the Booker can make a book, including a poetic or difficult book into an international bestseller".

And while he is quick to point out that his win helped him gain more readers, it is difficult to see it matching the Booker in terms of commercial influence.

The Impac award could have been so much more than just a prize with a big pot of money. As novelist Liam Browne points out, it has the admirable value of being "the most democratic of all literary prizes", by virtue of the fact that each book is nominated by libraries across the globe, mercifully free of the predatory marketing intentions of publishers. But until a greater sense of professionalism is applied to it, and a singular sense of its own unique vision is established it will continue to be a literary prize struggling to fight well above its weight. Ultimately though it may also suffer from that strange sort of irrelevancy intrinsic to all awards. After all there is a certain futility in trying to decide what is the best book. Sebastian Barry puts it best when he says "real validation probably comes from readers, those quiet letters maybe that no-one needed to send, that people send, one stranger to another."

AND THE NOMINEES ARE. . . .

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close Jonathan Safran Foer Safran Foer writes a response to the events of 9/11 through the rather unconventional world-view of nine year old Oskar. A novel that owes a lot to the Dave Eggers school of quirky selfconsciousness and as a result may be too much to stomach for some.

Shalimar the Clown Salman Rushdie The unwritten rule of all literary awards seems to be that Rushdie must be included, but this is another magic realist disappointment from a novelist who has been trading on past glories for far too long.

No Country for Old Men Cormac McCarthy A flawed novel from the great master of Southern Gothic. Even so, McCarthy on auto-pilot still beats most novelists hands down. However, a novel of occasionally sublime moments may not be enough to see him take the prize Arthur and George Julian Barnes Julian Barnes eschews his usual cleverness for a straightforward narrative, while turning Victorian history into fiction without any apparent effort. Barnes though may suffer for being an obvious and reliable choice in a competition which has a history of avoiding the obvious.

Out Stealing Horses Per Petterson The shortlist's dark horse (no pun intended). A strong piece of work from Norwegian, Per Pettersson, telling the story of 67- year-old widower, Trond, as he explores his past.

Slowman JM Coetzee A Coetzee novel about the nature of fiction which has been alternately described as a work of unparalleled genius and a work of incomparable tedium. In short, the kind of novel usually only chosen by award judges to encourage some sort of publicity and outrage.

The Short Day Dying Peter Hobbs Peter Hobbs' debut novel, describing the life of a 19th century Methodist lay preacher, is a subtly crafted delight of quiet moments and effortless descriptive power. It's a likeable novel which could well have a good outside chance.

A Long Long Way Sebastian Barry Typically exquisite prose from a lyrical master turning family history into gripping and moving fiction, and managing the dextrous feat of re-creating World War 1 trench life with both effortless beauty and sublime horror. A second home win might not be on the cards.