Maybe I should have titled this blog 'Protecting our Babies': Writing contests initiate celebration and isolation, ecstasy and sorrow. I have entered several contests in my life: The Word Guild, song writing, and a Miss Pilkington Township Century contest many years ago. I have to admit it’s been a little like the old saying, “Always a bridesmaid and never a bride.” I can honestly say that in all the cases I was content to be short listed and happy for the winners. And in all the situations, what I had to offer would have applauded and supported the winner’s offering in some way. I guess that’s a little like being in a group and having something important to say. In your waiting, someone else speaks to a similar issue and you sigh and say, “Point well said. I rest my case.” So we offer congratulations, accolades and best wishes for more of the same from those who won, especially at the recent Word Guild Contest.What is maybe even more important is the fine-tuning our writing gets in the process of preparation for submission to a contest. The time we spend with it resembles intimacy with a good friend. We talk to it, about it and sometimes even with it. Stranger things have happened. We protect it, defend it and support it. We sidetrack any new initiative in our life that attempts to rob our time or distract us from finishing, polishing and reshaping our baby.
And when it comes down to the moment of putting that stamp on it and carefully placing it in the mailbox or sending it by email through attachment, we offer a sigh of relief. We have been like the mother killdeer that flips and flaps a few feet away from her eggs trying to divert unnecessary attention away from her yet-to-be-born babies so they can mature and have new life.
Donna Mann
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