This is for all of you who submitted to Gold. Who have signed up for critique roundtables, pitches, one-on-ones. Or who just plan to come to Colorado Gold – or any other writer’s conference or contest.
The reason I say congratulations is that you’ve taken the HUGE step of saying, OUT LOUD AND PROUD, that you are a WRITER. You put your heart and soul out into the world, knowing how tender both of those are.
I’ve been there, and will be there (at Gold, that is). I know how hard it is to hit the send button on a contest submission and then instantly wonder if it was really ready. If you should have read it one more time. If…if…if. How long you struggle over that silly little two-sentence pitch that is soooo important, or the hours you spend honing your first pages for critique.
Writing is hard enough, but letting others – strangers – read what you wrote? Having them tell you what they think? That is REALLY hard. But the best thing about what you’ve done is when you find out the end result has made you a better writer.
Not winning Gold doesn’t matter (I know, that’s easy for me to say). But I can say it because I’ve finaled in several contests, including Gold, but never won. It honestly wasn’t a “downer” to know that I didn’t win. It was such a huge high to know that I was in the company of other real writers. Others who had struggled with each word, just like me. I was a winner because I was willing to try.
Whether or not you place in a contest, you WILL get feedback from the judges. You’ll see your work through fresh eyes. You might not have realized that you often fall back on favorite words, or that you have a tendency to head-hop. Being able to see what you need to work on is invaluable – at least it was to me. I was lucky enough to get a judge once who took time to highlight my different POVs in different colors. Until that moment, hearing I needed to stay in one POV went right over my head. I was finally able to equate those words to what I was doing, and my writing is better for it (much better!).
The critique roundtables are fantastic as well. Again, you see your story through fresh eyes (including an agent’s or editor’s!). Hear from other writers who are just as interested in helping make your story better as you are in helping them. You’ll come away with notes on things you might want to change, you’ll know there are some areas of your first pages that were confusing or unnecessary or thrilling or fantastic. And your fellow critiquers will find the same about theirs.
One-on-ones and pitches give you time with a professional that you might never have a chance to meet with otherwise. And you have them ALL TO YOURSELF.
Keynote speakers will encourage and excite you with their stories, and workshops will educate you on new and better ways to tell your stories. You’ll make friends, too.
So go ahead, give yourself that pat (just don’t dislocate anything that will prevent you from writing!). And, as always, Write On!
Thanks, Terri. I entered Contest so many times! I’ve finaled and even won a couple of times. Those books didn’t go on to be published. I didn’t make finals lots of times. But the Contest was instrumental in shaping me as a writer. So much targeted feedback dragged me forward, sometimes with a burning, red face, sometimes with pride, but always with encouragment and support. The judges spend their precious time because they truly want to help writers fulfill their dreams.
Especially for people who don’t get a chance, or can’t, attend conferences or critique groups, contests are one of the few ways to find out what others think about our writing. We all think we’re the lone stranger out there flailing around, when in reality, there are lots of people who are just like us. Well, maybe not like you and me, but other, normal, writers.
Thanks. This is so necessary for all of us as writers and, yet so easy to forget to do. Especially, when we don’t win that contest (or even place) or we receive that fiftieth query reject. I’ll try to remember this article in the future.
When I had my “winner” ribbon on and people would congratulate me, I found myself saying “Thanks, but I just finaled, I didn’t get first.” And that made me so mad at myself, because I knew it meant a lot more. It took me a time or two to start saying the right thing, which was, “Thanks! It really means a lot to me to get this far. It motivates me to try harder and get my work out in front of others.”