To Contest, Or Not To Contest

I've been hitting the contest circuit again this year. And I'm pleased to say, my third year in the game is going much better than when I first started out. Of course, my initial attempts were more like firing a shotgun into a dark forest on a moonless night. There are a lot of things I wish I'd known--targets I didn't think to aim for. So I'd like to take a moment in hopes of sparing someone else a bit of time, money, and frustration.

I've entered a few contests outside of the RWA, but personally, I wasn't happy with those experiences. Primarily because, once you send your entry (and money) off, odds are you'll never hear from them again (unless, of course, you happen to win.) RWA contests are hugely advantageous in that you will receive feedback to help you polish up those all-important first pages/chapters, even if you don't final. So for the purposes of this post, I'll be referring to RWA sponsored contests. But worry not--many of these contests are open to non-RWA members at a slightly higher entry fee.

If you haven't heard of the site already, Stephanie Smith keeps an extensive and up-to-date list of writing competitions, both within and outside of the RWA: http://stephiesmith.com/contests.html

Now that you can see what's out there, you may be in the same position I was when I first laid eyes on this cornucopia of options: Overwhelmed.

But when it comes to deciding which contests might be worth it to you, it all comes down to doing your homework. Let's start by considering some potential reasons for wanting to enter a contest in the first place...

*You are about to query your manuscript and want it in the best shape possible.

*You are querying your manuscript around, and have noticed one of your 'dream agents' is judging a relevant category in a certain contest. (Finaling would guarantee getting your MS in front of them.)

*You are querying, or about to start, and suspect placing in a contest would bolster your bio qualifications. (i.e. the bookworm equivalent of 'street cred.')

*You are a glutton for punishment in the form of literary criticism.

*You are just starting a manuscript, and would like some idea of how it may be received.

*You are hoping for the validation--some sign that you may be ready for publication.

*You are seeking fame and fortune. {Insert hysterical laughter here}

Whatever motivational reasons you come up with, you may want to write them down for later reference.

Now, to narrow your choices to those best suited, here's a list of questions (all of which, the contest's 'Rules & Regulations' section should answer.) You may want to design yourself a checklist.

Contest Screening Questions:

1. Does the contest have a category that fits your manuscript specifically?
(Some contests aren't large enough or simply don't have a judging pool that can support the slightly more peripheral genres like Young Adult, or Fantasy/Sci-Fi/Paranormal.)

2. How many pages does the contest call for?
You can expect a range from the first 5, up to the first 35 pages. Entry fees tend to vary accordingly. (Some contests focus on specific scenes, and can be a great tool to help you hone the impact of things like: The opening hook, The first meeting; The first kiss; The dark moment; etc.)

3. Which Editor or Agent will be judging the finalists in the genre you're targeting?
(If the judge happens to be someone who has already rejected your work, there's no sense in trying to get it in front of them again.)

4. What do they have to say about their first-round judges?
Are they trained/experienced? Can they promise at least one of them will be a published author?

5. Does the first-round scoring process involve dropping your lowest score?
(I generally recommend looking for this advantage when narrowing down your contest options. You just never know when one of your judges might have had a horrible day, and ends up inadvertently taking it out on their contest entrants. Nobody wants a fluke score to be the thing that crushes their chances.)

6. What do the formatting requirements look like?
(Mind the format requirements before you pay your entry fee: Most contests have a standard of 1-inch margins and Times New Roman/Courier, with a font size of 12 . . . but this isn't always the case. Remember, a higher font size requirement will result in less of your manuscript being read.)

7. Does the contest allow a corrections period for finalists?
(It's a tremendous bonus to be able to survey your first round judge comments and make adjustments before the final judge sees your work.)

And then there's the consideration I'll refer to as: The Swag Factor

swag

Noun:    An ornamental festoon of flowers, fruit, and greenery: "ribbon-tied swags of flowers".

Synonyms:

noun.  loot - booty - spoil - prey - plunder

In short: What perks does the contest you're considering have to offer its finalists and winners? The possibilities can range from a cash reward, to a frameable certificate, to a complementary badge or banner you can place on your website, to a membership/workshop discount, or even a 50-page critique by a renowned agent.

So how have contests helped (or not helped) you? Do you have any contest suggestions you'd like to pass on?

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Growing Pains: Confessions Of A Contest Newbie

It was among my writer’s goals for the year to enter a few contests, if for no reason other than to receive some constructive feedback from unbiased parties. I didn’t expect to win anything, or even be counted in honorable mention. After all, I haven’t entered any contests since college, and that was a classic ‘big fish in a small (barely literate) pond’ situation. So far, I’ve been glad that I kept my expectations to a minimum.

I recently received the results of a certain writing contest, which shall remain nameless. As I surveyed the judges comments, a quote from A Knight’s Tale leapt to mind in summary: “You have been weighed, you have been measured, and you have been found wanting.” Yes, it hurt. But now that I’m ready to clean up after my pity party, I thought it might help more than just me if I reviewed my experience.

If I convert my scores into a standard grading percentage, the grades I received were as follows: F, F, D, and C. (Hear that? That’s my honor student ego, crying.) Though I had been warned to expect it, I was vaguely annoyed to note a few contradicting elements to judge comments. Two thought I had perfect format with no structural issues, and two were bothered enough that I didn’t begin the chapter halfway down the page that they deducted points. (This wasn’t something specifically mentioned in the contest guidelines, but I’ll certainly err on the side of caution next time.) One of the judges had a huge pet peeve against any and all words that involved the suffix ‘ly’. On the bright side of that low score, it did draw my attention to how frequently I like to turn adjectives into adverbs. But are adverbs such a bad thing? (I’m not entirely clear on that yet.) Two of the judges wanted me to alter facts to increase tension, but I’m guessing they missed that I’d listed the piece as a Memoir. Granted, the only place I wouldn’t run into this misunderstanding is an actual Memoir contest…which I should probably look into. >.>

All four judges agreed on a few key points that I suspected from the get-go. I have no decent hook, my character goals are vague, and there’s too much backstory with not enough action. One of them was kind enough to suggest I read through the chapter, circle the first point where a conflict arises, and begin the chapter -there- instead. (For that comprehensible little tidbit, I will be forever grateful.) Another judge was kind enough to write an extra page of comments referencing the book The First Five Pages, listing chapters and page numbers where I could get help adjusting some of my more glaring problems. Talk about going above and beyond the call of duty!

To be honest though, at first I wasn’t sure I was going to make it past the more soul-crushing elements of their reviews. There were a few caustic word choices I got hung up on for a while: There was the repeated use to the term “dull and boring”, having my prose described as “awkward and convoluted”, and having my main character (i.e. me) described as “self-centered and forgettable”. >.< One judge even took offense to the story concept itself. I’m trying to be as gracious as possible, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t hard to keep from taking these sorts of things personally. I had to take a few days to sulk and wonder why I did this to myself in the first place. The answer, as it turns out, is remarkably simple. I can’t stop.

As it so happens, I was right in the middle of reading The First Five Pages when I got back the judges comments. I’ve since finished it, and found a great deal of solace at the end of its Epilogue. There, Noah Lukeman writes: “The ultimate message of this book, though, is not that you should strive for publication, but that you should become devoted to the craft of writing, for its own sake. Ask yourself what you would do if you knew that you would never be published. Would you still write? If you are truly writing for the art of it, the answer will be yes. And then, every word is a victory.”

For better or for worse, I’m devoted to the craft. And I’m declaring victory. :)

Anyone else care to share about their first major contest vivisection...er...I mean...experience? :D