Number Five

Received a welcoming email letting me know Ghost Lights is a finalist for another first book prize. Since this is the first contest where I still have a chance to win, I imagine I shouldn't say anything else regarding the press, so I won't.

That said, I'd be thrilled if my book got picked by the judge, and this is a prize last year that sent me the "Dear Poet, here's the winner, and it's not you" letter. Somehow, though, this year I felt the press would hopefully like it and didn't lose hope, so I'm glad my tenacity paid off. The same thing with the Brittingham last year versus this year. My manuscript didn't place last year, and this year Robert Pinsky read it as one of the finalists.

How these contests can be totally unpredictable continues to blow my mind.

I can see how waiting can get agonizing, though. I liked it better when I found out I didn't win but I was finalist. Now, knowing I still can win, it's almost worse. But having a chance I suppose is better. We'll see what happens.