I just got this letter from the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers:
Should your enjoyment of the conference up until the awards banquet on Saturday night be threatened by the tension of not knowing whether or not your entry won, you hve the option of learning in advance if [the editor] chose your entry as the winner. After Monday, September 9th, you may call or email me; I will first swear you to secrecy, then tell you whether or not your entry was chosen as the winner.
Augh! Wretched! I was PERFECTLY CONTENT going along not knowing until the conference, and then the option to know but not tell is offered! Wretched!
Actually, I’m still perfectly content to not know; I would very very very much *like* to win, but the thing that was really important to me (as I’ve said a dozen times) was making it to the finals.
Still! Wretched, to offer the option! They must’ve had some truly traumatized people in the past, to make the option available. I think it’s more fun not to know. :)
*giggle* I called up Mom to read her this paragraph from the letter. She asked if I was going to call and find out; I said no; she said, “You’ll be like Deirdre, too, and not find out what sex the baby is, right?” Then she said that my Aunt Ardie had said about that, “Well, I can understand wanting to be surprised … but couldn’t they be surprised *now*?”