First Winner

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I won my first contest.

I say this only because, in my exuberant joy, I can't recall ever winning any other contest before. Not one that I desperately wanted to win. Sure, I've won a few inconsequential "contests" here and there: a packet of sponges in Bingo, a baby-blue plastic hat in a work-out gym raffle (it ended up being too big ), and a school sweatshirt that looked better on my friend who now has it for good. The biggest prize I ever won was the "jackpot" graduation raffle--school ring, graduation announcements, cap and gown, and diploma frame.
Of course, I won this after I'd purchased all these items. Refund? Certainly not! But I digress...

I am the first place winner of the ACFW-Ohio "Hook Me" Contest.


I know you've all heard of it, who hasn't? It's famous. I don't even need to explain because you are sitting on your side of the computer exclaiming in awed "ooh"s and "wow"s, right?
No?
What a shock. Alright, I shall indulge you this once, but don't you ever forget the ACFW-Ohio "Hook Me" Contest after this.

Essentially, the contest focuses on the opening of one's book. In the world of writing, authors must grab the attention of editors/agents/bookstore browsers (etc) in the first five minutes and persuade them to keep reading. In "Hook Me", us authors-to-be *giggle* send in our first 1,000 words and a back-cover blurb (that juicy snippet on the back of a book screaming for you to open its pages). Three professional judges take a look at your chunk of work and give it a score out of 60 (following a list of intense criteria, of course). After this, your two highest scores are taken and averaged.

So I sent in the 1,000 words from my most recent novel and waited anxiously for an entire month (oh, the drama). The e-mail arrived. My breath caught. I double clicked and these bright red words met my nervous gaze:

CONGRATULATIONS!!! YOU ARE OUR 1ST PLACE WINNER

I read the word "1st" about a hundred times before I allowed myself to squeak, dance, laugh out loud, and throw my hands in the air. None of that is an exaggeration. I believe I may have even allowed myself an on-the-spot rap about "I can't believe I won" (this, coming from a girl who doesn't even listen to rap).
Then I looked at the number of contestants (41) and calculated my chances of winning. With atrocious math skills and six failed attempts, I came up with the approximate number: 2.5% chance of dominance. Two percent. And I won. My score? 60. Double the shock.

Do I sound prideful yet? None of this is written with the intent to brag. It is written in pure, ecstatic joy. I'm shocked, amazed, befuddled, in awe, and forever thankful to my best friend, Christ, who gave me the opportunity to join this contest, and who gave me the words to write. He won the contest and then laughed and let me think it was me.

The significance of this contest is not in the prize money, not in the title, and not in the certificates. It is in the fact I won a contest that judged what I love to do. It judged my writing--something in which I pursue perfection more frequently than breathing. After the smoke cleared, I was told that I'm "up-to-par". Hope and motivation are renewed with fresh vigor.

In a day when "Who Wants to be a Millionaire" is the contest-to-win, I am perfectly content with my yellow and fluorescent-blue print-it-yourself certificate.



And my $50 Amazon gift card might as well be the world.

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