Ice cream is such a versatile food.
Yesterday, for example, I arrived home from work to find contests results in the mail. This was the first romance writing contest I entered that actually offered feedback with score sheets and personal comments from judges. At this point, finalists for this contest had already been announced so I knew my entry wasn't adequate enough to proceed to the next level. And therefore, I figured I'd read comments such as, "Writing dry. Needs work. Too much back story..." and so on. I'd found some grammatical errors after sending it in so I knew the mechanics section of the score sheet would definitely rate low.
To brace myself for these awful--but true--comments, I went to the freezer and pulled out a carton of Cookies and Cream. Settling myself on the couch, I flipped open the ice cream container and, with spoon in one hand, I opened the dreaded results. And here is what they were...
One judge rated me a fifty out of fifty possible points and the other judge gave me a forty-seven out of fifty. Their end remarks were, "I can see this being published," and "Would love to read more. Keep up the great writing, good descriptions, great potential." I'd been expecting scores of twenty-five or hopefully thirty. But both score sheets had nothing but nice, complimentary things to say with no suggestions for improvement. I'm not sure if I lucked out with a pair of kind judges, but I'll certainly take what they gave me!
After reading all their notes, I glanced down at the melting ice cream in my lap. I'd been ready to delve in this comfort food for some major moral support. Instead, I grinned and polished off the rest of the carton in celebration.