The Unchosen

Today I, like 927 other aspiring poets, received a "Dear Poet" letter from BOA Editions in regards to their A. Poulin, Jr. Poetry Prize. (Okay, we probably didn't all receive it today.) Actually, it isn't even a letter; it's a copy of the press release announcing the winner, Janice N. Harrington's From the Shadows' Darkness. Also announced were three runners-up, none of which was mine, nor any belonging to my friends.

I have no beef. It's hard to be upset about landing somewhere between #5 and #928 in the final rankings; enough is left to the imagination to make hope salvageable. But the Poulin Prize is a first-book contest, which means that at least 927 first-book manuscripts are drifting around the country, looking for a publisher. One of them is mine. The odds are hard to fathom. One would like to think that such competition means that only truly excellent books will be published, but I've read enough first books to question that logic. I hope Harrington's book is good, but I wouldn't bet on it.

I wonder, too, about the quality of those 928 manuscripts. Who's writing them? How many come from accomplished poets? How many are MFA theses? How many are by self-deluded poetasters in misguided emulation of Rod McEuen? Can 927 poets write between them ten good poems? It's hard not to wonder.

Still, I'm sure my manuscript was fifth or sixth, right?

Cheers.