I'm a Looo-oo--oo--ser... Not!

I know: What an optimistic way to start the year, right? I've had this Beatles song running through my head for a couple of weeks now.

But hear me out.

Waaaaay back in ... I think it was September, I entered a writing contest. I have this story I've been working on for a couple of years, and I took twelve thousand words and tightened them into exactly the seven thousand required, and I sent it out. I like this story, and apparently I'm not the only one: of the possible 300 points I could get in the first round, I scored 299. My husband took the call from the lovely and generous coordinator, who informed him that I was a finalist. The winners (category and then best of the best) would be announced at a conference, to which I was invited, in February. In Houston.  After several weeks' debate and then with the encouragement of the BHE (see November's blog for copyright here), I booked flights.

Since child #2 is getting ready to be an exchange student, and since she's also a budding writer and pretty much fun to be around, I asked her to come along with me. This guaranteed two things: She would get a dress rehearsal of handling airports and airplanes, which she hadn't done in about ten years, and I would have a travel buddy -- I wouldn't have to walk into a room full of people I didn't know, or eat alone or see stuff alone. We'd never been to Texas and we needed a shot glass for our collection, which has one for every place we've ever visited.

Let's cut to the chase. By the title you can tell I didn't emerge with a publishing contract, a giant bouquet of roses and a trophy that would need to be checked into cargo for the return trip. I got back the scores from the final round judges (one agent and one editor) and they were pretty mediocre.

But here's what was great:

1. I got to spend a whole weekend with my 15-year-old daughter. We reveled in a 17th-floor hotel room (we could see for miles!) and we went to the Galleria (which is a mall on mega mall steroids, sort of) and we ate out and we visited the museum of Natural Science and the Zoo. We bought stuff and we laughed and when I didn't win, my daughter said to me, "Don't worry, Mom. Just think of J.K. Rowling." Because, you know, J.K. Rowling never won this contest, and she's doing just fine. My daughter is a wonderful human being. Even when I got lost on the way to the museum area and spent equal amounts of time arguing with the annoyingly unflappable GPS and the equally imperturbable Onstar, and when I hyperventilated on the giant ramps on the giant highways throughout giant Houston, she kept calm.

2. We got to meet writers from Houston, and let me tell you, the West Houston RWA chapter is full of fine, creative, thoughtful and professional people. My coordinator Sarah made us feel so incredibly welcome, and we owe her and her fellow chapter mates a huge thank you. They gave me a beautiful Honorable Mention certificate. They epitomized the way everyone we encountered in Houston behaved. We even got invited back for the rodeo next year.

3. I found out I've grown a tougher skin. I knew I wasn't going to win, but I was a bit bummed by the final judges' remarks. Then I recalled the comments from the  first-round judges, two of whom were published writers and writing teachers. And I recalled that I had faith in my own ability of expression with the written word.

So, final cost of trip? Let's just say monetarily it was not exactly a bus ride. My ego was a little bruised, but only for a little while. The six-hour delay of our transfer at the Philly airport was no picnic.

But the benefits, the winnings? As they say in the commercials, priceless.

Plus we got this cool shot glass with a plastic longhorn on it.