No, I didn’t wake up in Vegas, married to a stranger, with no recollection of having a tooth pulled or aching and bruised after singing with Mike Tyson. I’m coming down from the high of some really big announcements.
Yesterday, Romance Writers of America’s nominations for its most prestigious awards, the Golden Heart (unpublished works) and the RITA (published works), were announced. The notification calls went out early in the day and were finished by 3pm CST. I believe the maximum number of entries in each group is around 1200, so imagine 2400 people anxiously biting their nails, swilling pepto-bismal or chewing antacid tablets, as they waited for their phones to ring. Knowing that only ten percent of the entrants would make it to the final round. Yours truly was included in the nervous throng, and my call never came.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed that I didn’t make the final cut because really, who doesn’t want to be chosen? Remember when you lined up as a kid for volleyball, kickball, softball, whatever, as you waited to hear someone call your name? And you remained on the sidelines—unchosen! Okay, now you’re with me. Sometimes it worked out and sometimes it didn’t. But you were always a little bit anxious while you waited, right? Even if you didn’t give a rat’s patootie about playing, you still wanted to be chosen.
But even though yesterday didn’t bring me a Golden Heart nomination, it was still a banner day. I placed second in the First Coast Romance Writers Beacon contest for Unpublished writers. Now, I know I promised a boatload of tears if I didn’t win, but this time, that pink dress came with sexy shoes as a bonus. One of the judges of my section of the draw, an editor from a major publishing house, made a request to read my manuscript in full. I know what you’re thinking. Reading is not buying and you’re TOTALLY right. Reading is just that—reading with no promises made. But let me tell you, it’s not easy to get in front of those eyes, so I’m going to bask in the glow for just a little while.
The editor request was plenty of good news for one day but that’s not all. I owe the wonderful and sharkly Janet Reid, a debt of gratitude and a bottle of scotch for giving the advice to all bloggers/writers/website owners, to make sure a contact email is listed someplace on your site. Because of that, one of the other judges, an agent (oh la la!), contacted me and asked to read the manuscript. Say it with me again, “reading is not buying or an offer of representation,” but it’s nice to be the pretty girl in the room for a change.
All that to say, I’m probably the happiest one of the group of non-finalists ever produced, and with very good reason.
