Welcome to autumn! I’ve returned from a holiday in Provence which was all I dreamed it would be and am buckling down to the new season, which starts with a Focus Workshop on creating Fictional Friends this Saturday. But first, the focus of this particular newsletter is short story competitions.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot, especially as I’ve seen the process from both sides. I have won or been shortlisted in various competitions over the years, but not only that, I’ve judged competitions. Sometimes I’ve been the sole judge: for several years, for instance, I judged Winchester Writers’ Conference (now Festival) Shorter Short Story competition. On other occasions I’ve been part of a team. Last year I was involved in Oxford’s Short Stories Aloud competition and this year I was one of the judges of the Historical Novel Society’s Oxford 2016 contest.
In addition I’ve run workshops on short story writing and with the recent publication of An Oxford Vengeance I’ve been rediscovering the joy of the shorter form myself – and I aim to write more stories in the coming months.
So I thought it might be useful to devote this newsletter to what I’ve learned over the years, drawing on my experiences as a contestant and judge in the hope that this will help you maximise your chances of success when you enter. Here are five aspects of the process to consider.
1 Competition mind-set
Philosophical: there’s so much chance involved in the process. You can’t control it. You will enter strong stories and get nowhere and be startled by success when you least expect it. Try to take it all in your stride because, literally, you win some, you lose some.
Resilient: competitions are just the same as the other ways of getting your work noticed. You will be rejected, time and again, and most of the time you won’t have a clue why. You will not be recognised. Yet you’re a writer, so you’ll keep coming back for more, however hard each rejection is.
Calculating: you will keep a beady eye out for competitions where your chances may be greater. You’ll look out for the names of judges who write or favour the kind of fiction you write or where set topics are those where you feel you can make a connection, have a chance to shine.
Realistic: you’ll accept that some competitions are so prestigious that the sheer number of entries reduces your chances. You’ll be aware that a filter reader may winnow your story out of the process long before it gets to the big-name judge. It is so frustrating, but you are sensible enough to understand why it happens.
2 Technique
You won’t enter any competition in a slap-dash way: you’ll hone your storytelling skills, writing with economy and flair. You’ll try to be original without being pretentious, obscure or irritating. You’ll know how to draw readers in and maintain interest and momentum. You won’t faff and flannel. You’ll use language powerfully yet clearly. You’ll create openings that grab and endings that satisfy. You’ll give your story a title that catches the judge’s eye in some way – it won’t be a bland, catch-all phrase. It will be quirky, evocative, dramatic or just plain beautiful.
3 The Judge’s View
One of the fascinating aspects of contests, from the judge’s perspective, is how very few stories entered are actually dreadful. Equally, though, few are totally outstanding. Most fall into a proficient middle-ground where there isn’t very much wrong but nothing memorably striking either.
As a judge I can appreciate a good story but often my sense of it quickly fades. I can read a title later, when whittling a longlist down to a shortlist, for instance, and not remember which story it is. I have to go back to it and a few lines in I’m saying ‘Ah! It’s that one!’ The truly great ones don’t need a trigger like that. They stay in the mind from the get-go. They resonate. They even haunt you. They continue to deliver, on every successive reading - becoming, if anything, even richer. They are, quite simply, unforgettable. And they’re rare.
The same old, same old: in a competition you’ll find a topic du jour holds sway (dementia being a frontrunner lately) – or there’s nothing original in the treatment of the theme. Judges pounce on stories where there’s something fresh, whether it be point of view, voice, lyricism, vibrant dialogue, unexpected plot directions or the ending. Something.
Stories which are all style, no substance – and vice versa. They may be competently, even beautifully expressed, but they trigger a flat ‘so what’ sensation when they’re done. Give us the linguistic pleasure but give us a story too. Give us a compelling plot, but make the sentences a pleasure to the eye and ear. Give us something to savour, something to get our teeth into.
Historical fiction: one special issue I encountered when judging was the lack of an ear for the era, as it were. Make sure that dialogue, vocabulary, tone and thought cohere with the period you’ve selected.
Right story, wrong competition: make sure you choose the story that fits the competition’s level, ‘market’ and tone. Some competitions want fiery, adventurous, experimental fiction – others want cosy and traditional. Some are ‘literary’ in focus, others ‘commercial’ – and no, I’m not going to get into discussion about that division …
Arrogance: I’ve saved this till last because it’s my biggest bugbear. Time and again it takes me completely by surprise when writers seem to feel the rules weren’t made for them. They blithely ride rough-shod over clear competition rubrics, exceeding word counts, failing to paginate, failing to present the work as requested, introducing fancy fonts or PDFs, single-spacing when double-spacing is required … It’s remarkable. How likely is it that a writer with so little respect for the rules will garner respect and praise from the reader?
4 The Judge’s Responsibility:
Having got all that off my chest, here’s what I think a good judge's aims should be:
- to consider each and every story with due care, rereading and making notes, giving every story its chance, taking time to evaluate each in a responsible manner
- not make assumptions about subject-matter – another story about dementia, for instance – but to focus on how that subject-matter is treated
- not be influenced by notions of literary pretension or fashionable topics and approaches
- to work with other judges in a spirit of mutual respect, accepting that there will be differences in opinion (though it is encouraging how often judges independently choose the same best stories from the list) and be prepared to fight for the stories he or she believes should make the shortlist or winning list
5 Summary Advice:
Choose with care and schedule several competition entries during the course of the year, keeping a record of when you sent them, what the entry fees are, who the judges are, when results are due and what the results are.
Don’t keep sending out tired exhaustively-revised stories over and over – they start to wear the aura of defeat. Write new ones – this is good for you.
Be aware of the judges’ personal taste and writing output – will your story appeal?
Obey the rules! Don’t think you’re such a brilliant writer they need not apply to you. They do. Don’t do anything that will gain you disqualification – you’re up against enormous competition.
Nurse your wounds when you don’t get placed: it will happen. Often. Then, move on. Keep trying.
When considering entering a story, look at it from the judge’s point of view. To you, it’s one special story. To the judge, it’s one of many, often read to a deadline. What is it about this story that will stand out? The language? The characters? The tense and twisty plot? What will make it stay in their memory after they’ve read twenty or fifty more stories?
Don’t fall at the final hurdle: I’ve seen really good stories that I’m willing to succeed do precisely this. The ending is anticlimactic, lacking that almost audible ‘click’ of elements settling into place.
Your story-title makes a promise: deliver on that promise.
Competitions to consider:
Here are a couple you might like to enter this month –
London Magazine Short Story Competition, for stories up to 4000 words long, with prizes of £500, £300, £200 plus publication. Entry fee £5 and closing date 31 October. See www.thelondonmagazine.org. My friend Anna McGrail won this competition last year, with her story Fascicle 41 – you can read it at http://www.thelondonmagazine.org/44338-2/ See also http://www.thelondonmagazine.org/short-story-competition-2015-award-ceremony/
The National Association of Writers’ Groups 2016 Open Writing Competitions – short stories, poetry and novella categories, with closing date 31 October. Visit www.nawg.co.uk to find out more.
Finally …
A reminder of upcoming Fictionfire events:
This Saturday (15th October) my Focus Workshop is Fictional Friends. Learn how to create dynamic, convincing friendships in your stories and explore the range of functions those friendships can fulfil. http://www.fictionfire.co.uk/focus-workshops
October 29th – my next Simply Write Retreat gives you the chance to step back from the hurly burly and just write, in a peaceful and encouraging environment. http://www.fictionfire.co.uk/simply-write-retreats
November 5th – Share and Support Focus Workshop
November 19th – The Next Big Thing in Teen Fiction – Could You Be the One to Write it? A special day course with guest tutor Julie Hearn. Develop your techniques and learn about what’s hot in the current YA market. Julie is an incredible teacher and Carnegie shortlisted writer who has published seven acclaimed novels including The Merrybegot and Rowan the Strange. If you’re keen to write for teens, don’t miss this! http://www.fictionfire.co.uk/course-dates-&-details
November 26th – Building Backstory Focus Workshop – only a few places left for this workshop.
Till next time – happy writing!
Warm wishes,
Lorna
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