C is for Contests & Critiques by Carol Harrison

 

C is for Contests and Critiques

From the time I began reluctantly writing my first book, Amee’s Story, I felt like I had forgotten so much about writing and English lessons, I felt stuck. How could I ever get past the first few sentences, let alone the first chapter? I typed in words. I deleted them and began again. Then I connected with other Christian writers. I stepped outside my comfort zone of hiding the writing attempts and asked for critique on chapter one.

Putting your piece of writing in front of someone else and asking for a critique can make you feel vulnerable. What if they think nothing is any good? What if questions flitted through my mind. But what did I have to lose? Being stuck didn’t help. Gulping back my fears, I submitted this writing to the opinion of others. It helped me get unstuck.

Through the years, I have still felt inadequate too many times. There is always more to learn. I’ve also realized that it’s difficult, if not impossible, to see some of the common errors in my own writing that I can pick out in a piece written by someone else. We all see what we know should be in our own writing, whether extra words or missing ones.

I meet with other writers to encourage and be encouraged, to learn and to share knowledge I’ve gained. Yes, critique is still part of my writing journey. Recently, another writer and myself meet about once a month. We send each other about 4,000 words of writing. We spend time reading and critiquing each other’s work and then get together to review why we suggested the changes we did. We also make sure we let each other know the parts of the writing we enjoyed the most. It has been an exercise in learning and growing in the craft.

C is also for contests, another way of moving out of my comfort zone and receiving

feedback to help me improve my abilities. I entered Amee’s Story in the Word Guild contest the year after it was published. I wanted to receive the judge’s comments to see what worked and what could be improved as I moved forward with writing. It took a lot of courage to send the book away. Imagine my surprise to find out my book was a semi finalist in the Memoir category. Even though it did not win, I received excellent feedback from the judge which I referred back to as I wrote other pieces.

Since then I’ve entered other contests. A local writing group I belong to has two contests every year which are blind judged by a published author. At first I entered the prose and poetry because we needed to make sure we had at least five pieces in each one in order for the contest to proceed. Obligation to help coloured my reason for entering, especially poetry. But once again the judge’s comments proved so valuable, I began entering them for the purpose of receiving those helpful comments.

Inscribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship provides us with opportunities to enter our writing into the fall contest each year in a number of categories. Blind judging allows unbiased comments. I haven’t entered every year. At first, I couldn’t make myself move out of that comfort zone and send my writing away to be judged. Then, I wanted to receive feedback from a judge to know how I could improve and what I did well. I entered the Devotional category because I felt most comfortable with that genre. Since then, I’ve branched out to try others. It’s a wonderful opportunity to learn and grow.

I enter a contest and wait in eager anticipation for the results. Yes, being in the top three is a goal each time but mostly I can’t wait to read the judge’s comments even on pieces that have made those top places.

Contests and critiques are opportunities to stretch us out of our comfort zones while offering advice on ways to improve my writing. It won’t be long before the Inscribe Fall Contest is open. We’ll discover the categories offered this year. Are we ready to write entries for the contest? After all C is for critiques, contests, and moving out of our comfort zone. 

 Carol Harrison writes from her home in Saskatoon, SK. Fear still grips when she sends submissions for contests but she finds them valuable learning tools for this craft of writing.

A Little Perspective by Susan Barclay

Light at the end of the tunnel

Maybe I'm unusual, have a bad memory, or am obtuse, but I honestly can't think of a time when my writing was criticized, or at least criticized in a negative way. I've submitted work for school assignments, to critique groups, and to publishers, but any feedback I've received has been either helpful and constructive or offered as optional, for my consideration. I take suggestions, give them a fair mulling over, and either accept or reject them.

Now of course I've received rejections - any writer who submits work is bound to get those. (If not, please let me be the first to shake your hand and ask for your secret!) And most often those "no's" arrive without feedback, assuming the publisher chooses to respond at all. 

But I have a confession to make. Rejection doesn't really bother me, for the following reasons:

1. I've been rejected a lot in my life. I was a quiet kid, bookish, frequently picked last in team sports - you get the picture. No pity, please. I've been happy with my small group of loyal friends from the non-cool club and the experience has given me the thick skin required to keep submitting work even when I don't get a yes right away (or for ages).

2. I'm a Type B person. I strive for excellence, but not perfection. I (mostly) let things roll off me like water off a duck's back (cliché, but it works). I see criticism and constructive feedback through the lens of helping me improve my work - always a good thing.

3. I believe the old adage, "slow and steady wins the race." And "good things come to those who wait." I don't get overexcited if acceptance takes a while. I know my work is good and it's just a matter of time.

4. I've had a series of smaller successes that encourage me and keep me moving in the right direction. Publication in anthologies, including Chicken Soup for the Soul (twice), the opportunity to lead my church's Creative Writing Team, the chance to publish in FellowScript, are all prime examples of writerly accomplishment.

So, call me weird but I'm not going to let a little criticism get under my skin. And I hope you won't either.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." ~ Jeremiah 29:11, NIV

 Perspective is everything.

Seeing the forest in the midst of the trees

_______________
Susan Barclay maintains a website at www.susan-barclay.blogspot.com and has practically given up on blogging there. 😞

I've Only Begun by Tandy Balson

Looking back on my life, I realize my apprenticeship started long before I was aware of it.  There were many signs I failed to recognize on my journey to be a writer. So many prompts were ignored.  Nevertheless, they combined to form the essence of who I am and how I express myself.

When I felt called to write I started to carry a journal everywhere I went.  Inspiration could strike at any time and I wanted to be able to capture the thoughts before they escaped. I later learned that I’m not alone in this practice.

Before long I joined a local writers group for support.  They only had positive things to say and my confidence level increased.  It was more than a year later I found out they didn’t give critiques unless they were specifically asked for! Perhaps the encouragement was what this beginner needed to build confidence.

The first negative feedback I received took me by surprise.  If I was following God’s will for my life, shouldn’t everyone love what I was writing?  I had no idea how naïve that mindset was. It was a rude awakening but necessary for me to realize how much I had to learn.  

Conferences, workshops and honest feedback from writers and editors set me on the right path.  One editor saw potential in my writing and offered to mentor me. The direct tutelage of a professional was integral to me becoming published. 

I understand that I am still in the early stages of my formal apprenticeship. The more I learn, the more I am aware how much more there is to learn.

God has given me the desire to write.  As my master instructor, he has led me to InScribe and the fellowship of others called to share his inspired words.  What better apprenticeship could anyone ask for?

Gestating an Elephant by Sharon Espeseth

Although elephants have the longest gestation period of any mammal, I may need to contest that record. Guinness World Records should be warned.

On January 11, 1996, my first memoir piece, "The Man Who Loved Auctions" was published in Western People. Since then a number of other stories of unique characters I’ve known and incidents I’ve experienced have been published here and there. With positive feedback and encouragement from readers, I continued writing memoir stories.

I didn't plan to make a book of these stories in 1996, but over the last decade, I have considered pulling some of these pieces into a book. So when was this book-child of this mammal actually conceived?

Last March, I prepared an introduction to the book and supporting samples for a memoir workshop with co-presenters Caterina Edwards and Jean Crozier. With prep work submitted for critique in mid-March 2013, this may have been the recognizable conception of my project. If so, I'll aim for March 2015 for my baby elephant walk.

Here is a sample from my Introduction. Honest feedback or suggestions for my project are welcome.

Note to Self: It's never too late to be what you might have been.

Glancing in the Rearview Mirror

By Sharon Espeseth

            Mrs. Jacobson,* a fellow parishioner at the Evangelical Covenant Church, used to drive our clan from West Edmonton, Jasper Place in those days, to our church on the south side for Vacation Bible School. With my dad and uncles working out of town, Mom appreciated Laura Jacobson’s offer to drive the three Augustson women and four kids across town daily for a week of fun and learning and a social outing for all.

            Mom didn’t drive and my two aunts weren’t ready for city driving. Riding across town by bus was a long and costly for families just arrived from Saskatchewan. Mrs. Jacobson, gray-haired and older than Mom and my aunts, was a teacher turned homemaker with one adopted daughter, Betty.

            Aunt Elaine, with Baby Cal bouncing on her lap, sat in the front seat with Mrs. J. and Betty. Squeezed into the rear seat of the gray sedan were Mom, Aunt Ruth, my two sisters and I. Without seatbelts and baby car seats—unheard of restrictions in the 1950s--no one worried about a crowd of nine in the car. 

            Slightly rotund and slow moving, Mrs. Jacobson was a cautious, but not necessarily confident or competent driver. To further distract her driving, she spent considerable time gazing in the rearview mirror.

            Returning home from VBS one late afternoon, while crossing the North Saskatchewan River on the 105^th Street Bridge, traffic dragged to a crawl. With Mrs. Jacobson’s attention diverted by what was going on behind her both inside and outside the car, she struck the vehicle ahead. I can still hear the sound and feel the jolt of bumper to bumper.

            The right door flew open and my ten-year-old body shot from the crowded vehicle onto the metal slats that were the surface of the bridge deck. As the metal slats assaulted my hands, I realized I could see the muddy waters of the swift-flowing North Saskatchewan River below. Before I digested this fact or developed vertigo from the river churning below, Aunt Ruth had yanked me back into the car and slammed the door on the whole incident. 

           Apart from my sore left arm and tender hands, no harm was done to any of us or to either vehicle. The solid metal bumpers of those days withstood the shock. Mrs. Jacobson, showing no outward signs of emotion over the mishap only said a calm, “Oh, my!” I’m not sure if this incident improved our chauffeur’s driving, but it did concern the adults of our family. My arm and hand felt better long before the story died down.

            Like others, who’ve passed the midpoint of life’s journey, I have experiences, amusing or otherwise, to share but I’m choosing to tell them as vignettes or glimpses of what I see in the rearview mirror. Glancing, rather than gazing as our chauffeur did in the rearview mirror, I will still have time to enjoy the present moments of my own life. Reviewing my life in snatches, I may brighten the day for a reader or take my readers along for those rides when I actually let God take over the steering wheel for my travels.

*Names of people outside the family have been changed to protect the innocent.

The Ministry of the Red Pen by Dayne E. Mazzuca

why those hard-to-hear words still matter

When a culture fails to receive criticism, it's in trouble. It fails to grow, or improve, or include others in its doings. It becomes insular, defensive and self-righteous. As an Editor, I see this all the time. It's my job to offer others feedback that is meant to signal two things: one, I care; and two, I see how things might be better. But I find in life and in work few people appreciate the use of the Red Pen.

Having an Editorial Eye is not limited to the written page. For instance, I'll offer a pastor feedback on his sermon, suggesting the use of visual aids is overdone. I'll suggest to the principal of my online school board that he encourage parents and students in person. I'll tell my property management firm to treat their clients with respect. You get the idea.

Sadly, nine times out of ten, these suggestions are not well received. You can imagine why.

Still, it's hard to stop offering critique. It's like I carry a Red Pen with me wherever I go.

I've noticed most people don't like having a Red Pen mark up their efforts. They just want to feel loved, appreciated and approved of—as is. Don't we all.

But I still think the hallmark of a mature, growing organization, or individual, or piece of written work, is the one who can invite constructive feedback. The one who says, "Thanks! How else can I make this better?"

Since the only reason I'm offering feedback is because I'm one of the people they are trying to reach, I assume my opinion is valuable. But, so far, I can name on one hand the people who relish the Red Pen. Half of them are writers, who know the difference a critical eye can make to any piece of work—written or otherwise. The other half are simply people who impress me a great deal.

Ah well, some jobs are thankless and leave you feeling unloved, unappreciated and unapproved of—don't I know it!


By Dayna E. Mazzuca
www.daynawrites.com