To Contest or Not to Contest?

by Angela Hunt

Every year, the contests come around, whether you are published or unpublished. Should you enter? There’s a definite cost involved—not only the financial fee, but the cost of your time to prepare the manuscript, arrange for the mailing of books or pages, and the cost of wear and tear on your nerves. Are contests worth it?

Way back in ’87—as in the twentieth century—I was working as a freelance writer and the mom of two preschool kids. I was writing almost anything people would pay me to write—business letters, advertising copy, and tons of magazine articles. I was earning while I was learning, and best of all, I could work while my kids napped in the afternoons. If I didn’t know how to write a certain thing, I went to the library and got a book on how-to-write-whatever. (This was before the Internet.)

One day I was reading my monthly copy of WRITER’S DIGEST and saw an ad from Abingdon Press. In order to honor one of their picture book authors, they were holding a contest for unpublished picture book writers. First prize would be publication . . . and an advance. All you had to send in was three sketches and a manuscript.

I was unpublished in any kind of book format, so I was intrigued. But before I started writing, I went to the library and got a book called HOW TO WRITE A CHILDREN’S PICTURE BOOK. I read it from cover to cover, then sat down and wrote a manuscript.

Two months later, I got a phone call—my book had won first place. A committee chose the finalists, they narrowed it down to two, and a ten-year-old boy chose my book as the winner. They were going to publish If I Had Long, Long Hair.

That night I asked the Lord to prevent me from ever writing anything that would lead people astray. I kept writing, but shifted my attention to books.

And I kept entering contests. One year I learned an important lesson—my adult novel was a finalist in RWA’s RITA Awards. Some of my friends assured me I would win. But I didn’t.

And as I sat there, all dolled up, listening to someone else’s name being called, I was stunned by how disappointed I was. Then I realized why—I had harbored expectations. I shouldn’t have.

When I expect nothing, I can’t be disappointed. So I’ve learned to hold possessions lightly and to be grateful for any unexpected blessing. I’ve learned that any kind word from a reader is a gift, and critical words are either well-deserved or a sign that the reviewer is not my ideal reader.

Contests have their place. When you enter an ACFW contest, whether you win, final, semi-final, or even participate, you’re a winner. You’ve written a manuscript! How many people start a book and never finish?

You’ve found the courage to send it to readers! Brave is your middle name.

You’re supporting an organization that educates Christian writers! Thank you for your generosity!

And you know what? Winning a contest won’t guarantee that you find a publisher or agent—and NOT winning doesn’t mean you won’t.

Winning doesn’t mean your book will sell a million copies. What winning means that your book probably edged out others by a nose hair.

So if you win a category at the ACFW this year, congratulations! You’re accomplished, brave, and generous.

But if you don’t win, you are still all those things. Never forget that. And while you’re waiting to hear the contest results, cast off your expectations. Instead, be grateful that God has helped you be accomplished, brave, and generous . . . and get ready to write your next book!

Angela Hunt is the author of 165 books for children and adults. You can read more about her work at www.angelahuntbooks.com She entered a book in the Carol awards this year and didn’t place. That’s okay. She didn’t expect to.