What It's Like to Be a Golden Heart Finalist

or The Lessons I Learned

By Deborah Pfeiffer

Over the past few years, I’ve entered the Golden Heart a few times, but never been a finalist (always the bridesmaid…). I’ve also judged in the contest, to gain insight into how the process works, and watched other writer friends deservedly make the cut and cheered them on at the awards, hoping and vowing I’d be there next year. Well, ‘next year’ finally came for me in 2004! It’s been a wonderful and interesting experience. Here’s a quick insider’s view of what the experience was like for me:

There's Always a Prologue

I should've known something good was going to happen. After all, I won the entry fee for my Golden Heart entry in Windy City’s holiday party drawing! How much more karmic can you get than that? The only downside was I didn’t have time to revise the entry like I’d hoped before the final deadline, but decided to send it as is. (And secretly hoped it would final like that so I wouldn’t have to revise it at all!)

Lessons learned: Trust karma. And, GO FOR IT!

Expect Good Things

I was oblivious to the exact day the calls went out. In fact, I woke up in a bad mood. So much so that when my business line first rang early that morning, I didn’t answer, assuming it was a pesky telemarketer. A few more calls later, and I finally answered. Thank goodness! Even then, after the very friendly RWA board member introduced herself, I silently wondered if board members were calling people who didn’t renew their membership after the first notice! When I finally grasped what the poor woman was trying to tell me, I couldn’t quite believe it! It took about three days before I could even sit down and do anything of any use. Except, of course, to e-mail, call or tell everybody I knew and everyone they knew that I AM A GOLDEN HEART FINALIST! (And then explain how prestigious that is. “It’s like being nominated for an Oscar…”)
Lessons learned: Expect good things. If you concentrate on the bad, you may actually miss the good things winging your way. And, trust karma, again—the finalist book is named Dreams Come True.

Ancillary 1: Answer your phone! FYI, RWA’s policy is to not leave a message in this situation.

Ancillary 2: Don’t let your membership expire during the year—if it does while you’re a finalist, you’re no longer a finalist! Ack!

The Roller Coaster Effect

All the kudos I received were way cool! But after a few days and getting back to writing, it didn’t seem so real anymore. Then I joined the GH2004class of finalists’ listserv, and the excitement started all over again, especially when our members started selling about an average of a book a week! I lived in daily excitement: Would another finalist sell? Would I be that finalist? I started thinking of the whole process of selling my book as one big reality TV show, Who’s Going to Buy Debbie’s Book! I figured an editor would disqualify herself on a regular basis until the big prize winner was left—the one who’s allowed to buy it! (I did say expect good things, didn’t I? Well, becoming a finalist makes you start dreaming bigger!)

It was amazing. It seemed everyone on the list who sent out queries were getting immediate requests for fulls!

Then the rejections started coming in, just as fast and furious as the requests for the fulls. Sometimes in big bunches. Not just on my desk, but across a lot of finalists’ desks. So our imperviousness to rejection was tested once again…and again and again.

Like many of my fellow finalists, I found myself in the same dilemma. As a finalist, I got to put in an early request for my editor appointment in Dallas. I got exactly who I asked for. Then, a month before conference, I promptly got a rejection letter from said editor on my finalist book! Oops!

Lessons learned: Being recognized for your writing can actually keep you from writing! And, being a finalist can expedite response times, but sometimes they’re not always good responses. Still, it’s worth it!

She Ain't All That

I hadn’t planned to go to Dallas this year, but once I got news of being a finalist, you couldn’t keep me away. Especially when past finalists told me, “You will be treated like a princess!” Who could pass that up? Still, as the conference approached and rejection letters continued to trickle in, I hate to admit, I wondered out loud to one of my critique partners, “Why am I going anyway? Just to hang out with my ribbon all day and wait for people to congratulate me?” I got a resounding “YES!” Well, OK, then! My mission was now clear.

Fast-forward to Dallas. As soon as I can, I head to registration, assemble my badge, stick that pink GH Finalist ribbon on there, and get that baby around my neck. I feel a Disney moment coming on, where I will be magically transformed, like Cinderella, Snow White, and Sleeping Beauty all rolled into one.

I sit there a few minutes and no crowds spontaneous form around me. The first person I meet is someone who’s never attended an RWA conference before and has no idea what all the ribbons mean. Instead of being congratulated, I find myself explaining what being a GH finalist means. Ha! on me! Suitably chastened, I walk by the huge poster of Rita and Golden Heart finalists and belatedly realize my picture is up there, for everyone to see. I stop, think about going back, but then decide that would be crass and attention-seeking to gape at my picture. I am then later informed by a fellow friend and finalist that, duh! Of course I should look at it, in fact, I'm supposed to pose with my real face next to my much more touched-up publicity shot.
Obviously I still haven't got this whole Golden Heart etiquette figured out!
Lesson learned: Make the most of your experience—not by expecting flowers at your feet, but, as a friend pointed out, by enjoying what you’ve earned. As a writer, you put in a lot of work and rarely get recognized for it. So when something like this comes along, enjoy! (And work it, baby!)

Excitement Mounts

The congratulations during the week are cool! And I do have more parties and events to go to than at past conferences and get to meet finalists in person that I’ve gotten to know online. All this is fun. But I’m not really feeling all that different. But as the day of the awards gets closer, the excitement creeps up on me. First, I go to dinner with my chapter mates the nite before the awards. They start talking about where they’re going to sit so they can cheer me on. It seems a little more real. What really gets me, though, is practice run-through the afternoon of the event. I walk into the dark ballroom, with the hundreds (thousands?) of chairs all lined up, facing the lit stage and the podium and walk up to the VIP section where I’ll be sitting that night. And it hits me! I could be walking up on that stage! I could be giving an acceptance speech there later! I could be hyperventilating in front of thousands!

Lessons learned: Never underestimate the excitement of the awards whether you’re a participant or not! And, definitely go all out with your attire! When else do you get to celebrate like that? And, write out your acceptance speech, even if you don’t get to use it. It helps you remember how you got there.

Everyone’s a Winner

I didn’t win my category. But I still won! I knew this going in, but I wanted to share it with you. I met some incredible, amazing colleagues, got to share in their excitement as well as mine, and got to celebrate for once this wonderful, tortuous life of writing. And as others before me have told me, being a finalist is something you’ll have forever. No one can take it away from you. You may not win your category, but people will still remember, and use the info, that you were a finalist.

Then again, it didn’t hurt that an editor who judged my category came to meet me at the reception after the awards. And asked to see a full of my manuscript! So you just never know!

Lessons learned: It’s not over till it’s over. And, of course winning is great, but being a finalist is great too!

I know I wouldn’t give up the experience for anything. Meanwhile, I’m working away on new books, with the hope of entering the GH—and becoming a finalist again—in 2005. Unless of course I suddenly become ineligible…by selling a book first! Hope you’ll be joining me!