Last week I wrote about the end of a well-established poetry competition, the Petra Kenney Memorial Poetry Competition, here. Soon after, I read in Sarah Salway’s blog about this year’s version of the competition she has been running with Lynne Rees called Messages. Sitting at the edge of my desk, just out of eyesight, is Kudos, the regularly published listing of competitions compiled by the editor of Orbis, Carole Baldock. I could go on and on.
It seems like the literary world is filled with chances to win copies, publication, recognition, even sometimes money. I know many writers who regularly enter contests, often winning, and see this aspect of their work as crucial to their careers, not only in terms of their advancement but also their creativity. The short story writers that immediately spring to mind, beside the wonderful Ms. Salway, are
Vanessa Gebbie and
Tania Hershman. I’ve written about Vanessa and her fantastic collection,
Words from a Glass Bubble,
here, and my blog will soon be part of Tania’s virtual book tour promoting her new collection,
The White Road.
Now, the question is: what stops me from entering? I used to think that art shouldn’t be competitive, but I’ve grown up enough in this world now to realize that everything is competitive and even if we don’t like to admit it, art that is brought into the public eye is intrinsically competitive, too. I certainly don’t doubt the importance that winning, or even being long-listed for many of these prizes is an incredible boon to one’s career. And I must admit that back when I was entering competitions more regularly, when my work was chosen among the many, I felt wonderful, thrilled, encouraged — and then proudly displayed those(very few) wins in my cv and cover letters for all to see. So what is stopping me now? One would think that now that I have two books published and many more pieces popping up in magazines, I would be more confident. But I don’t think it’s a lack of confidence that stops me — believe it or not. But I’m not sure what it is. Silly me…. I had thought that by the time I had reached this part of this posting I might have figured it out. But no.
So please enlighten me if you can. And in the meantime, I leave you with the poem that brought me the greatest kudos, a place as a finalist in The 2005 James Hearst Poetry Prize, sponsored by the North American Review and judged by my idol, Billy Collins. I must admit that I do like this poem, but as the kids now say, I never thought it was “all that.”
Pas de Fromage
From across the room
I can smell the cheese
which I don’t allow myself
to eat.
Two mounds like breasts
beckon at me
from a host of blocks –
square, rectangular,
creamy, white,
speckled with regional herbs.
All fragrant beyond belief.
I don’t let myself touch.
But I dream nonetheless
like some old man dribbling
in a greasy raincoat,
hidden around a brick corner,
smoking a soggy fag,
alert and alive but
alas, oh alas,
bereft.
Sorry Sue, I’ve left your page open on my pc while I made a Halloween Cat Woman costume! Hope I’ve not messed up your stats.
I love the poem – it’s brilliant.
All writing is competition, isn’t it? What I find difficult about a real, actual competition is the first, second, third bit… but maybe sales and contracts could be viewed that way anyway.
I’ll be honest with you, Sue, I feel quite ambivalent about competitions. I have had a few wins, and some short- and long-listings, but I haven’t come to my own conclusion about what it all means. For me, there is something so bizarre about the idea that my story was “better than” hundreds of others. I have a really hard time taking that in, and feel rather like a fraud about it.
However, when a story is accepted for publication in a lit mag, I don’t feel like that at all, I feel delighted, thrilled that my story was enjoyed by the editors and they felt it fit their next issue or whatever.
Maybe it’s an inbuilt British reluctance to celebrate winning that makes me so uncomfortable about competitions, because it’s obviously nothing to do with success in general. Something quite specific. I guess when you win something, you imagine people reading your story, poem, novel, and thinking “Well, this isn’t so good. Why on earth did this one win?” Or is it just paranoid ol’ me that feels like this??
And so… why do I keep entering comps? The money is very helpful… and I guess part of me must want to win, must get something from that. I have learned from Vanessa to take something from a shortlisting or longlisting: as she says, it means the story “has legs”. I guess it’s a good indicator, although, as we know, competitions are far from objective, as the judges will be the first to point out.
Interesting topic of discussion! No clear answers from me, sorry.
Lovely poem indeed. And I do so sympathise about the competitions thing. I gave up entering anything this year, partly because on the whole it was very disappointing, and partly because it didn’t make me feel any better about myself on those few occasions when I was long-/short-listed or even placed in anything. I don’t think my confidence was raised by any of it, and I do feel rather liberated by my lack of commitment in the face of so many “encouragements” to keep on entering and to never give up.
Well, for me, there is a time to give up, and though it feels sad that the “commercial” or competitive part of my writing career is over for the long-term future, it does mean the downs and misery are less!
Hugs
Axxx
Thanks for the link! Come and join us at Your Messages, the idea is not so much it’s a competition but an inspiration to write more – I really hope the people who took part last time think so.
As far as competitions go, I don’t enter any more but they were incredibly helpful for me when I was starting out – not least as a deadline and a way of getting writing ‘out’. Otherwise I think it would have just sat in my drawer.
Difficult one, Sue.
I used competitions after I wrote my first book and didn’t get it published. I realised (eventually) that maybe it simply wasn’t good enough and I needed to write more and get better. So I started to enter short story competitions often for unpublished authors only, in order to force myself to write to a completion date, to a word count, often to a subject that I wouldn’t necessarily have chosen and I think it helped.
I deliberately tried different subjects that I wouldn’t usually have written about, sci-fi, ghost stories, comic style, switched between first and third person and after several stories started to (I think) develop some kind of personal style.
I then went back and re-wrote the first novel several times,which worked for me and was able to deliberately change the style and pacing for my second book.
It may be disappointing if you enter competitions and aren’t placed, but it does keep your interest going that you could be. So even though the judging is obviously, has to be, subjective, I think it is a useful tool to use.
As long as you enter ‘legitimate’ competitions and choose the right ones for you.
Hi Sue, and thanks for the mention.
Competitions have been great, for this writer. I have had far more success in reaching final placings in strong comps than I have from the editors of strong literary magazines!
What does that mean? No idea, as it is all such an imprecise science. At least the comps pay if you are lucky, although paying tax on the winnings isn’t quite so funny.
The downside of comps for this writer is the ‘freeze’ I got after each success. The inability to write for quite a while. I am told that this can kick in, as writers fear not being able to reach that standard again. The ‘second novel blues’ only in a lesser way.
I could not more put a story into Bridport this year than fly. I dodnt want to risk getting knocked back! And thats why, I suspect, loads of writers stop entering afater a run of good luck.
But I could stick a poem in, so did… funny old world.
PS I love the poem, too, and the fact that it was a finalist for the prize is so heartening to me, as someone who is a little afraid of “poetry”. This poem is so evocative, so sensual, so accessible. Was it published?
I love the poem….your imagery is fantastic!!
C x
Great poem, Sue – a worthy prizewinner. And especially satisfying, I’m sure, because it was selected by a writer you admire.
Hi Sue, the Your Messages gig isn’t really a comp. Last year it got me writing 300 words every day. This year I’m going to try the 30-word thingy. Come on in. It’s good fun. And it’s surprising what comes out when you’re not looking.
On comps in general – sort of like our wedding anniversary – keep missing the day.
Hi everyone: well I guess I did open a can of worms. It’s been fascinating to see everyone’s reactions to entering these competitions. I guess what i’d like to do is enter some sometimes and then forget about them unless I’m happily reminded. And thanks for the kind words about the poem. It was published in the North American Review, and then made it into my poetry play, “Dreams of May.”
Love the poem, Sue! Great imagery. About competitons -I used to enter competitions, but it became ridiculous because I was never even longlisted and I started to worry about the competitons at the expense of my writing. Now I’ve said ‘the hell with it’ and writing is easier – I might be no good by competition standards, btu so what? I keep writing and working to improve and that’s what matters. Actually I do think that what judges look for in a competition is not quite the same thing that magazine editors are looking for in a submission.
Gorgeous poem, Sue! I’m still picturing the dribbling old man in the greasy raincoat smoking a soggy fag – and the cheese, the cheese.