My Life as a Golden Heart Finalist
This article first appeared on the Romance Writers of Australia blog in August 2009.
November 2008, four days before the Golden Heart entry deadline – I had just discovered the manuscript I’d sent weeks earlier hadn’t made it to RWA’s Texas office. Cue panic attack. My dad, who lives in Los Angeles, suggested I email the ms to him and he’d print and send it. It was the only time I’ve ever been glad he lives so far away. After draining his stationery supply and enduring paper cuts, Dad FedExed the entry, which arrived with hours to spare. “You’d better get somewhere in this contest,” he grumbled over the phone when his good deed was done.
Cut to July 2009 – I am indeed “somewhere.” Washington, DC. As a Golden Heart finalist in the Young Adult category. Last year’s Aussie finalist, Tracy O’hara, insisted I would feel like a princess at the conference. She was right. Photographers and autograph hunters hounded me. (Alright, I signed and posed for one or two friends.) Strangers made this little nobody feel like a big somebody when they approached and said, “You’re Vanessa Barneveld. You write YA, right?” (The latter was not on my name tag, I swear.) One person told me how much they loved my books, but I soon realised she’d mistaken me for someone else. No matter. It was still nice to be accosted by a fan, even though technically she wasn’t my fan.
The day of the awards, I tried not to surrender to nerves. They’d hit during rehearsal when the director talked us through the proceedings. (“Make sure you have a two-minute acceptance speech ready!” “Try not to fall down!” “Don’t freak out when you see your ginormous face on those ginormous screens!”) But as soon as I walked into the auditorium for the ceremony that night, I got that weird out-of-body feeling and just absorbed the atmosphere. People have said the GH/RITA awards night is the Oscars of the writing world and that’s no exaggeration. To me, this was one big party to celebrate being a finalist in arguably the world’s most prestigious romance writing contest. I had Beth Miller, my agent’s assistant, as my date, a glittery Linda Howard in the seat before me, a ballroom full of new friends, and five days of jet lag had finally dissipated. I pinched myself the whole time.
Winning would have been a nice little bonus, but the fact is the GH puts a bright spotlight on all finalists. Many of us in the class of 2009 (aka the Ruby Slippered Sisters—we click our heels madly if ever a sistah needs extra help in making a wish come true) have landed publishing contracts, agents and full manuscript requests as a result of the GH. Each of us in the YA group received requests from an executive editor at a major New York house.
The only thing I regret about not winning is that I didn’t have the opportunity to publicly thank those who have helped me get this far. So if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to grab that chance now. Promise I won’t go on for more than two minutes.
Thank you to RWA and the contest judges. Big hugs to my fellow YA nominees–Amanda Brice, Addison Fox, Elizabeth Langston and Shoshana ‘2009 Winner!’ Brown. Finalling is really just the beginning for us.
For their faith in my work, I thank my agent, Robin Rue, her assistant Beth Miller who rescued me from slushdom, and all at Writers House.
Anna Campbell and Annie West, thank you for pushing me whenever I’m slack and pulling me up whenever I’m down. I love you both even when you’re tough on me! I’m ever grateful also to my CPs—Stephanie Kuehnert, Janette Hankinson, Kandy Shepherd, Cathleen Ross, Cheryl Sallick, Joanna Challis, my two Claires—and to my cheerleaders, Tina Ferraro, Kerri Lane, Christine Wells, Sharon Archer, Tracey O’hara, Trish Milburn, Fiona Lowe, CC Coburn, the We Love YA blog and the Ruby Slippered Sisterhood. To all the Romance Bandits, thank you so much for awarding me your scholarship to attend the conference.
Thank you to my husband, Frank. The night of the GH was our 14th anniversary and I would’ve given anything—except maybe a Golden Heart —for him to be there with me. And finally, a huge thankyou to my dad. I truly couldn’t have made the finals without him.
November 2008, four days before the Golden Heart entry deadline – I had just discovered the manuscript I’d sent weeks earlier hadn’t made it to RWA’s Texas office. Cue panic attack. My dad, who lives in Los Angeles, suggested I email the ms to him and he’d print and send it. It was the only time I’ve ever been glad he lives so far away. After draining his stationery supply and enduring paper cuts, Dad FedExed the entry, which arrived with hours to spare. “You’d better get somewhere in this contest,” he grumbled over the phone when his good deed was done.
Cut to July 2009 – I am indeed “somewhere.” Washington, DC. As a Golden Heart finalist in the Young Adult category. Last year’s Aussie finalist, Tracy O’hara, insisted I would feel like a princess at the conference. She was right. Photographers and autograph hunters hounded me. (Alright, I signed and posed for one or two friends.) Strangers made this little nobody feel like a big somebody when they approached and said, “You’re Vanessa Barneveld. You write YA, right?” (The latter was not on my name tag, I swear.) One person told me how much they loved my books, but I soon realised she’d mistaken me for someone else. No matter. It was still nice to be accosted by a fan, even though technically she wasn’t my fan.
The day of the awards, I tried not to surrender to nerves. They’d hit during rehearsal when the director talked us through the proceedings. (“Make sure you have a two-minute acceptance speech ready!” “Try not to fall down!” “Don’t freak out when you see your ginormous face on those ginormous screens!”) But as soon as I walked into the auditorium for the ceremony that night, I got that weird out-of-body feeling and just absorbed the atmosphere. People have said the GH/RITA awards night is the Oscars of the writing world and that’s no exaggeration. To me, this was one big party to celebrate being a finalist in arguably the world’s most prestigious romance writing contest. I had Beth Miller, my agent’s assistant, as my date, a glittery Linda Howard in the seat before me, a ballroom full of new friends, and five days of jet lag had finally dissipated. I pinched myself the whole time.
Winning would have been a nice little bonus, but the fact is the GH puts a bright spotlight on all finalists. Many of us in the class of 2009 (aka the Ruby Slippered Sisters—we click our heels madly if ever a sistah needs extra help in making a wish come true) have landed publishing contracts, agents and full manuscript requests as a result of the GH. Each of us in the YA group received requests from an executive editor at a major New York house.
The only thing I regret about not winning is that I didn’t have the opportunity to publicly thank those who have helped me get this far. So if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to grab that chance now. Promise I won’t go on for more than two minutes.
Thank you to RWA and the contest judges. Big hugs to my fellow YA nominees–Amanda Brice, Addison Fox, Elizabeth Langston and Shoshana ‘2009 Winner!’ Brown. Finalling is really just the beginning for us.
For their faith in my work, I thank my agent, Robin Rue, her assistant Beth Miller who rescued me from slushdom, and all at Writers House.
Anna Campbell and Annie West, thank you for pushing me whenever I’m slack and pulling me up whenever I’m down. I love you both even when you’re tough on me! I’m ever grateful also to my CPs—Stephanie Kuehnert, Janette Hankinson, Kandy Shepherd, Cathleen Ross, Cheryl Sallick, Joanna Challis, my two Claires—and to my cheerleaders, Tina Ferraro, Kerri Lane, Christine Wells, Sharon Archer, Tracey O’hara, Trish Milburn, Fiona Lowe, CC Coburn, the We Love YA blog and the Ruby Slippered Sisterhood. To all the Romance Bandits, thank you so much for awarding me your scholarship to attend the conference.
Thank you to my husband, Frank. The night of the GH was our 14th anniversary and I would’ve given anything—except maybe a Golden Heart —for him to be there with me. And finally, a huge thankyou to my dad. I truly couldn’t have made the finals without him.