Books:

Discovered! 505
Odd Enterprises

Hidden Dollars

How to Make
Money at Home

Small Business
of Your Own

You Can Own
a Business

We had been married Easter Sunday, twenty-five years ago. I deliberated, trying to make up my mind whether to ask for a silver service in sterling, which was way out of our reach, a television set, which, while not silver, was equally impossible, or a silver birch, which Nelson could dig out of the woods behind our house with his bare hands. He had been threatening to plant one in our front lawn for eight years.

I threw caution to the winds and answered, "I don't want anything dear, unless it's a trip—to Florida, perhaps!"

I knew immediately by the hurt look in his eyes that I should have settled for the tree. Having a joint bank account, I was fully aware of the defunctness of all our accounts except love.

I couldn't sleep that night. I kept thinking about that trip I wanted so much. Our vacations had been few and far between. One of my favorite radio programs, "Welcome Travelers," was offering a trip to Chicago as prize for the best letter on "What Welcome Travelers Means to Me!" I was perfectly willing to settle for Chicago; I had never been there either. I had never been anywhere.

I kept thinking what I would say if I should write the letter. I had listened to "Welcome Travelers" for years and it had been a real inspiration. For armchair guests, we had certainly been around, thanks to the stories we had heard on the program. I kept thinking until 3 o'clock in the morning. When I had the letter all finished in my mind, I went to sleep. I got up at 6 o'clock, wrote down everything as I had planned it the night before, carried my letter out to the RFD box, in front of our Warren, Michigan, home, put up the flag so the mailman would pick it up and promptly forgot all about it. There were chickens to feed, meals to prepare, windows to clean and dishes to wash.

THERE IS a happy sequel to this story. Exactly three weeks later, Nelson and I were in Chicago, enjoying our beautiful suite of rooms in the Hotel Sherman, as guests of "Welcome Travelers." The judges had picked my letter out of 65,000 entries. Thanks to Procter and Gamble, "Welcome Travelers," Tommy Bartlett, star of the show, Bob Cunningham, Stefan Hatos, producers, Les Lear, manager, and all the rest of the wonderful gang there, we had a more fabulous vacation than I, even with my imagination working overtime, could have dreamed up.

For five days we touched, tasted, saw, ate, drank and listened to the best that Chicago had to offer. Then, to our complete surprise and astonishment, we were put on a Delta DC-6 luxury plane and flown to Miami Beach, Florida. We spent our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary at Palm Beach, sunning ourselves.

In addition to the trip we were awarded an Easterling sterling silver service, a Crosley television set, a Tappan gas range, a Westinghouse Laundermat, a Kentile floor and hundreds of dollars worth of other merchandise. We appeared on the air every day during our stay in Chicago.

This is not a fairy story, though it reads like one.

The same thing has happened to a lot of people. The top prize in a national contest does not necessarily go to the professional contestant. Anyone can win, That is the fun of contesting; everyone has an equal, chance. When a sponsor makes a promise, he keeps his word. It is a pity so many people believe contests are not fair, that they are fixed. From my own experience I know they are fair. As an added assurance, Uncle Sam keeps a rigid surveillance over them, since they are conducted through the mails. The sponsor is dependent upon Mr. Average Citizen to buy his products and nothing makes him more happy than to have Mr. Average Citizen win.

HOW DID I happen to become interested in contesting? How did I happen to write this letter that hit the jackpot for us?

A very small, seemingly unrelated event that happened a long time ago was the beginning. Eighteen years to be exact. We had just moved from a small town to Detroit at the time.

My father had given my six-year-old son a bright, shiny, new red bike. I shall never forget how Jack's eyes shone with the pride of ownership. Jack was an only child so I had done my best to teach him to share. He took his bike out on the street and a big boy asked him if he could have a turn. Jack unselfishly handed over his new bike. The big boy rode down the block and kept on riding. A man, sitting in his parked car, saw the whole affair. He said to Jack: "Hop in, we will chase the boy and get your bike back." I had taught Jack never to get into a strange car, never to talk to strangers. Things were happening too fast for him. He shook his head and drew back. He came running into the house, his face tied up in knots. We never saw the bike again.

I had to stand by and see a small boy disillusioned because he had tried to live according to the precepts I had laid down. I had no money to buy a new bike. But I had seen an announcement of a contest in a newspaper, "Why is Bread your Best Food?" The prizes were bicycles. The boys must write the letters themselves, fifty words or less. I wanted to be quite fair. I called Jack in and we talked about bread for a long time.

We decided that if he still had his bike, eating more bread would help his short legs to grow faster so that he could reach the pedals. He labored over the spelling but he wrote it himself. A few weeks later Jack was called into the principal's room at school. I am sure he wondered which one of his sins had caught up with him. His letter had won a prize. A shiny, new, red bike was presented to him. He had to stand up in front and read his letter to the whole class.

Can you wonder that I have never doubted since that our needs are taken care of—that God sometimes works in a mysterious way? But I have believed, too, that the Lord helps those who help themselves. The least I can do is toss a slogan down a wishing well.

CONTESTS, LIKE death and taxes, are here to stay. You can't pick up a paper, a magazine, or listen to a radio program without running into several announcements of them. I don't try them all. I save my best for a few. I have worked out some methods and suggestions that might be of help to others. I never enter a contest unless I can really feel sincere about my praise. Only when I feel sincere can I write sincerely. I have repeated sincere several times. I have repeated it on purpose. For to me, sincerity is the important thing. Judges can pick it out. It is either there or it isn't. Like radium it shines in the dark.

The simple, homespun type of entry often seems to win in a letter writing contest. However, I do not underestimate the power of a large and varied vocabulary. Scientific tests have showed that successful people have one characteristic in common, a thorough knowledge of the true meaning of words. Knowing the exact meaning of the word you want to use, however simple, is what counts.

Contesting is one type of writing. To be a successful "word man" you should have a prolific vocabulary. Your failure or success in contests can be largely due to your knowledge or lack of knowledge of words. Although most people's vocabularies stop growing in their middle twenties, this tendency can easily be overcome by devoting a few minutes each day to learning new words.

Several inexpensive books are invaluable to the contestant for this purpose. Besides my indispensable dictionary, I own "Thirty Days to a More Powerful Vocabulary," by Wilfred Funk and Norman Lewis, and "Roget's Thesaurus." Both of these books are available in the small pocket edition selling at twenty-five or thirty cents.

You may also want to invest in a rhyming dictionary for help in limerick or rhyme contests. A "Word Bank" is a handy book too. Your local book dealer can suggest the best books of this type. A monthly journal, called Contest Magazine is published at Upland, Indiana. This magazine lists current contests with their requirements. (It is important to follow every requirement faithfully.) Contest Magazine also contains winning entries and helpful suggestions.

WHEN I decided to write my "Welcome Travelers" letter, I tried first to diagnose my own reactions to the program. Then I tried to tell clearly about the kind of life we were living on our little farm. In a letter writing contest it is always best to use your own familiar background, make your own personality count.

I tried to express what a program like "Welcome Travelers" could mean to us and to millions of others like us. I tried to use colorful words, because life is so drab without them. I tried to paint a picture with my words, to use clear imagery. I tried to use simple words, because we are simple people.

I am going to include my prize winning "Welcome Travelers" letter in its entirety, because, perhaps, by reading it, you can see what I mean:

"Several years ago, we conceded, my husband and I, that we would never travel many miles beyond the familiar five acres we call home.

"Somehow the pennies we had saved, one by one, for a trip, had gone into a new roof for the chicken coop, taxes for paving the road in front of our house, a helping hand to the children, an unexpected operation.

"With a sigh of resignation, we put our dog-eared travel folders and books back on their shelves.

"We realized, with sudden clarity, that if we were ever to see Washington cherry trees in bloom, we must try to see them in our own pear trees dripping confetti every May, if we were ever to see sailboats off Puget Sound, we must try to see them in the shirts and sheets flapping on our clothesline against our own small square of sky. The nearest we might ever come to Sweden would be in tasting the smorgasbord served every year by our Community Church.

"A lot of people, like us, will never see their dreams come true, but we go on dreaming.

"After hearing your program once or twice it became a daily must for us. Weekdays, we hurry through our chores so that 'Welcome Travelers' time finds us beside our radio, our feet propped up against the old iron stove, a second cup of coffee on the table between us.

"We don't talk much while we listen. But together we see the quaint, old buildings in Canada's Quebec. We feel the sharp, stinging atmosphere of 40 degrees below in Fairbanks, Alaska. As your travelers talk I see London's yellow fog rolling up and I seem to hear the fog horns of the boats on the River Thames. We smell the honey sweetness of the apple blossoms in Normandy, France. A missionary takes us to mysterious Tibet.

"Can you begin to realize what your program means to us?

"We laugh and cry with your varied guests, We wish them Godspeed on their way. We follow them to all the ends of the earth.

"Thank you for giving us so very much pleasure. Sincerely."

Two years ago, in a contest sponsored by the Country Gentlewoman League, of the Country Gentleman, I won a $75 prize for our local branch of the Woman's National Farm and Garden Association with a similar letter. The contest was entitled "My Day," and was to be an essay about a typical day, picked at random. Occasionally I try my hand at simple verse, of the jingle variety. I had just finished one about how I loved the familiar things at home.

Here is the poem I had written:

Drudgery? When my simple heart,
May conjure tricks like these
In flapping clothes upon the line,
See sailboats in the breeze?

Or dreaming of Elysian fields,
May place upon the ledge
An apple pie, with wifely art
To sublimate my pledge.

A prisoner? When the walls that hold
My spirit captive there
Enclose the treasured symbols of
The unity we share?

Let those who rail at lowly tasks
Seek phantom heights above
They've missed life's one most priceless gift
The alchemy of love.

I used this poem as the basis of my letter. Do you see the similarity between this and the former letter? You can cash in on your own idea more than once, if used in a different way.

IF YOU want to qualify as a successful contestant, be contest minded all the time. Keep your eyes and ears open. Make yourself thoroughly familiar with the product being advertised. Read all the sponsor's advertising. He has paid out good money to professional writers for his advertising—use it as your textbook for ideas. Watch for the points of superiority which the sponsor particularly stresses. Be fair, give the product a trial—catalog your reaction and that of your family—tell about it in simple words. Try to make the sponsor's product sound so attractive that someone else will want to buy it.

Although I always hope to win, I never expect to. Half the fun is in being surprised. However, being surprised can lead to some strange situations. I once won in a contest I didn't even know I had entered. I didn't know I was eligible. I didn't know I had won. And certainly I didn't expect to be notified at the door. I had had a trying day. From morning until night my doorbell had been busy. There had been solicitors, bill collectors, magazine salesmen, corset fitters, and neighbors just wanting to talk. l had grown very weary. At 5 o'clock in the afternoon the bell rang again. The potatoes were burning, the coffee had boiled over.

I told Jack to answer the door. But I followed him, my hair bristling. Whoever was there would get a piece of my mind. Coming to bother me at this time of the day. A salesman, I conjectured, with his brief case, stood outside. In no uncertain terms I told him to be on his way. He let me rave and rant. He just stood there, politely, hat off, with a smile on his face. Finally I stopped talking, just about ready to slam the door in his face. Then he told me I had won a prize. He wanted to present me with four theater tickets which I had won, of all things, for my courtesy. My driving had been observed by a policeman and my car license number had been taken. Was my face red?

YOU MAY find an "idea bank" as useful as I have. I use a number of heavy Kraft envelopes to file my ideas. I label one for each type of contest I am interested in: soap, scouring powder, ice cream, cars, shaving soap, etc. I cut out and save advertisements or articles about these types of merchandise. When a contest winner's name is announced over the air, usually a request, sent to the winner—enclosing a stamped, addressed, return envelope (this is important) will bring a copy of the winning entry. This can go into your idea bank. It will show you the type of thing the judges want. It may help you with your next entry. After all, there is nothing new under the sun. The same old idea, with new clothes on, may be the winner next time.

When a new contest comes along, drag out your idea bank and go over the material carefully. Go to bed thinking about the ideas you have absorbed. Let your subconscious mind work for you while you are asleep.

Don't be satisfied with the first, or most obvious idea that comes into your head. Others will have this first, or easy, idea too. Dig deeper. Try to give the old idea a new twist.

Keep a list of song titles, old and new in your file. One of my winning entries was a letter composed entirely out of song titles. I had arranged these in the right sequence to tell a story about the sponsor's product.

Cut out cartoons and jokes to add to your bank. Keep examples of spicy language and clever wording.

Regard as grist everything that comes to your mill. Be willing to work, be willing to think. Remember contest writing, like any other kind of writing, is 10 percent inspiration and 90 percent perspiration.

Personally, I like to use the words "win" or "winner" in my contest entries, whenever I can, because it has brought me luck a number of times. As an example, a slogan I wrote for a local paint company, was voted unanimously the first prize winner. My slogan was: "Used by expert or beginner—Time proclaims Blydell's the Winner."

Limericks are fun. In filling in the last line to a limerick, your last word must rhyme with the last words of the first two lines, and must contain the same number of beats. If you do not have a rhyming dictionary, take the trouble to sit down and make a list of all the words you can think of which rhyme with the required word. Go right through the alphabet, trying each letter and combinations of letters. Then try to make a last line to the limerick, using each word you have found, regardless of how ridiculous it may sound. A sudden idea may arise from using such a springboard. Alliteration or an inner rhyme is a good thing to work for. So is a pun or play on words. An excellent thing to do is to try to work in your own experience with the product or tell a personal story.

In a limerick contest for Underwood Deviled Ham, I won a leather fitted picnic case for my last line to the following limerick:

The way to man's heart, it's still true,
Is to feed the brute something that's new,

Spread your bread with this ham
It's delicious, yes ma'am—

My line:
I did, and it was. Now we do!

I underestimated my ability on one occasion. When Fudgcicle came on the market the manufacturer put on a contest to advertise its new confection. The contest was to write slogans for Fudgcicle. The prizes were roller skates. I wasn't satisfied with writing one slogan. I wrote ten. I ate Fudgcicles until my tongue froze to obtain the wrappers which had to be sent in with the entry. I sent in all ten slogans with the names and addresses of different children around town who were Jack's friends. Everyone of my slogans won—a pair of roller skates. After all the winners had congregated on my front sidewalk a few times for roller skating parties, I was completely cured of wholesale slogan writing!

Or wholesaling in any form when it comes to contesting, for that matter. Never again will I fill my cupboards with dozens of boxes and bottles and cans minus labels. One at a time is good picking. But occasionally you can cash in on your troubles. I made up a little rhyme about the incognito condition of the products on my shelf and sent in to another Country Gentlewoman League contest. This entry won too and my poem was published. I had won so many prizes that I was ashamed to use my own name, I sent it under a nom de plume:

BLIND MAN'S BUFF

You can, win a fortune or car or watch
In "25 words or less,"
But must send the wrapper or label or box
To qualify your guess.

In complying, my cupboard resembles
Nothing that used to be.
Salt and soap and flour and spice
Have lost identity.

The label's off the cleanser,
The wrappers off the soap—
Now this is cheese for sandwiches
Not yellow soap, I hope!

I've salted the soup with cleanser?
Oops! Sorry, dear! Wrong guess!
Just tell me off quite roundly,
In 25 words or less!

Remember, the four S's that should be applied to contesting:

Be Sincere.
Be Short (don't use two words where one will do).
Be Sprightly (use the sparkling word, the different word to catch the judge's eye).
Be Specific (don't talk in generalities—get personal—remember in Jack's contest he wrote about how the sponsors product—bread—would help his legs grow faster to use his bike).

No one can doubt that contesting pays. Between ten and fifteen million dollars in prizes are given out each year to winners in local and national contests. For so little effort, where can you find more rewarding fun? You don't need any special talent, you don't need a rabbit's foot. All you need is a pencil and paper, a stamp, and a lot of faith.