Claudia O'Keefe ~ Writer & Anthologist
About Competitions
For More Information About Writing Competitions...
- Poets & Writers Magazine maintains an excellent database of literary and grant competitions.
- Writer's Digest Magazine hosts annual writing competitions with major prizes in a number of categories, from memoir to children's fiction to stageplays, and most other forms. While Poets & Writers leans toward the literary, Writer's Digest is squarely set in the popular, commercial side of publishing.
- Not certain if a contest or competition is the real thing or a scam? Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, Inc., has posted an in-depth look at writing contest scams on its highly valued Writer Beware pages.
When to Enter a Writing Competition: 9 Ways You Win
by Claudia O'Keefe
I love writing competitions. Love daydreaming about winning, or getting honorable mention, or even making it past the first cut. That love is diminished somewhat when the deadline for announcing an award passes and the much hoped for email or phone call doesn't happen. That’s when I know my entry wasn't exactly what the judges were looking for.
Yet no matter the results, I, like so many other writers, keep coming back. Why? Competitions reel us in for any and all of the reasons below:
1. They serve writers at all stages of their careers.
Whether it’s a “Writing Challenge of the Month” contest offering kudos rather than prize money, a competition sponsored by a “little” magazine with a reputation for publishing Pushcart Prize-winning fiction, or a $40,000 Guggenheim Fellowship, competitions offer opportunities to almost all writers from the absolute beginner to the seasoned pro.
The trick is finding the right contest for you at your level of experience. While it’s possible for a total beginner to win the Bakeless Prize–in fact, the competition is not open to anyone who has previously published a book-length manuscript–a writer just starting out may have better luck with competitions focusing on shorter works, and gradually progressing to this much sought after award.
2. Competitions provide an alternate outlet for work that may otherwise not find a home.
Some material, no matter how well written, has limited salability due to its lack of commercial appeal, off-beat subject matter, experimental style, or a downbeat tone or ending. Competitions, especially those that involve an award without publication, give judges more leeway to recognize and praise deserving work regardless of its market potential.
Tangential to this, writers can use competitions to “try out” work in categories that are new or unfamiliar to them. Win a poetry prize, and it's easier for the nonfiction writer to claim on a query letter that they are a poet, as well.
3. Some competitions offer feedback to their entrants.
While the vast majority of competitions offer only one type of feedback, winning or not winning, some include opportunities for entry material to be critiqued. This option is more often a feature of smaller, local contests, such as the Southwest Writers Competitions in New Mexico, or many of the state chapter contests associated with the Romance Writers of America.
If you are looking for a contest with this option, make certain that it is a legitimate competition, run by a recognized organization. Do not fall for a phony contest, the sole goal of which is to suck you into paying for editing, critiquing, or script coverage services you don’t need.
Personally, I’d never pay to have my work critiqued–why pay for something you can get free from a number of sources? If you are determined to pay for feedback on your competition entry, however, think twice before you fork over more than a nominal fee.
4. Competitions are a terrific way to connect with others.
It sounds contrary to their nature, with the entries for the average competition being submitted to the judges anonymously, but you never know when your writing will attract the attention of an editor, publisher, or producer. You may not win the competition for one reason or another, but that professional can learn your name once the judging is complete, contacting you afterward if interested. Or a judge might remember your name in the future, when you submit your work to them through normal channels.
I’ve also met a number of other writers by having entered a competition and commiserating when neither of us won, congratulating a competitor for winning, or even sharing the “spotlight” with a fellow awardee.
5. Writing competitions motivate a writer to do his or her best work.
This isn’t to say a writer isn’t always striving to put forth his or her best effort, but there’s something about a contest that brings out the competitive nature in all of us.
6. Doing well in a competition increases a writer’s self-esteem and prestige, and can give validation to his or her work.
I think this one’s a given. Win something and you feel good about yourself. Your personal stock rises.
The reverse, however, should never be considered true. Just because you don’t win, or even come close to winning a competition, doesn’t mean your work is substandard or without merit. For instance, I recently judged the essay category for a writer’s group’s annual competition. The contest is structured so that the same work can be entered in more than one category. When all the results were in, I noticed that an essay that hadn’t even made my first cut, placed well in another category. It goes to show that judging, like publishing, is a subjective process. What doesn’t work for one judge or judging committee, may work for another.
7. Winning, receiving an honorable mention, or even making it to the finals of a competition looks great on a CV or in a cover letter.
Apply for a writing grant or admission to an MFA program, and it helps to have an award or two on your resume. Similarly, if you’re an unpublished writer looking for credits to include in a query, positive results from competitions can give your proposal more weight.
8. Crass as it sounds, being awarded money or other prizes is nice.
I highly doubt there’s anyone who can make a long-term, full-time living from entering writing contests. Yet who’s going to turn away cash when offered? Better still, how about the other prizes competitions may offer, a trip to a writer’s conference, face time with editors and agents, or a publishing deal?
9. Winning the right competition can launch or boost your career.
Some of the most exciting competitions, such as the Bakeless, have book contracts attached. Top screenwriting competitions can offer fellowships and internships with major studios worth $30K-$50K. If a romance editor with a New York house decides to judge a competition, chances are she’s on the look-out for a talent she can add to her line. Winning a major competition may be enough to secure a good agent, and get your work in front of editors. Even seasoned writers can benefit from an award by parlaying it into greater visibility for their work.
When Not to Enter a Writing Competition: 9 Red Flags
by Claudia O'Keefe
What writer wouldn't like to be able to add the phrase "award-winning" to their bio? Competitions exert an almost irresistible allure of validation and prestige. Winning the right competition can catapult an unpublished or never produced writer into a full-time career, or shoot an under-appreciated talent toward the top.
When is entering a competition NOT a good thing? Obviously when the contest is not a legitimate one. Scams include contests where you are required to buy something to enter; where entries are a means of building a list to sell you on something, usually manuscript reading fees; and contests run by fake charities, script coverage agencies, vanity presses, or what Writer Beware's Victoria Strauss calls "contest mills." Unpublished poets and unproduced screenwriters are common targets.
Beyond the scams, are there more subtle reasons to avoid a competition that might sound or actually be legit? Below are nine possible caveats, some of which may surprise you.
1. The benefits of participating don't justify your fee money, effort, or time.
Obviously the best competitions are those that don't charge an entry fee, have few entrants, and offer substantial prize monies or other benefits. In the real world, these three factors rarely converge. For instance, entry to the contest may be free, but there's thousands of other writers competing with you. Or entries may be few, but the fee is high, and the prize money low.
You have to decide on an appropriate risk-reward equation for yourself. How much are you willing to risk in terms of entry fees and time spent, possibly tailoring an entry to one specific contest? Are you willing to plunk down $35 for the chance to compete with a hundred other writers for a top prize of $200? To me, those are lousy odds for a sub-par reward. One exception could be a competition judged by a top editor or producer to whom you wouldn't normally have access, and who could possibly further your career.
2. The contest rules don't spell out the judging process, or who will have access to your entry.
Just as I wouldn't send off my work to an agent, editor, or publisher about whom I have no information, I don't like entering competitions blindly. I want to know who will be handling my entry, and be authorized to read it. I want to know whether it is being judged by one person or a committee. What are the judges’ credentials? What type of material do they work with on a day-to-day basis, which could give me a clue about their likes and dislikes? Are entries judged anonymously or with the entrant's name included? Will my material be protected from exposure to people not associated with the competition?
3. There's a strong possibility that personal or organizational politics could sway the judging.
During a workshop I once attended, a creative writing professor told our class, don't bother entering writing competitions.
"Most," she said, "award prizes based on personal politics."
As an example, she spoke about working for a literary magazine at the university where she did her graduate work. Asked to judge their annual competition, she conscientiously read the entries, none of which had names attached, and presented a list of winners to her editor. She was shocked when the woman told her to go back and reconsider her choices. Weren't there some other entries in the stack she'd noticed that better deserved to be picked? Hint. Hint.
I doubt that the majority of contests at literary magazines are decided this way. In fact, my guess is that most are run with honesty and integrity, but it's worth noting that organizations aren't perfectly neutral, impartial entities. They're comprised of humans, and humans generally have agendas. The best competitions recognize this and institute rules to keep personal politics from interfering.
4. You have concerns that the contest may not be a legitimate one.
As mentioned at the top of this article, not all contests exist to help writers get noticed by the publishing or film communities. In fact, some are organized purely for self-interest, ripping-off gullible entrants.
One relatively benign version of contests launched for self-interest, though, are subscription drives masquerading as writing competitions. Pay the entry fee and you get a subscription to the magazine. The competition is genuine, but the prize money offered is often nominal. Is this an objectionable practice? Not if you are happy with your subscription; but if you wouldn't normally subscribe to the magazine, be sure to recognize the competition for what it is, a nicer alternative to asking outright for donations.
5. You are required to forfeit your rights to the material as a condition of entering the contest.
Some competitions run by political, religious, economic, environmental or nonprofit organizations seek personal essays on a topic of specific interest to their organization. In exchange for prize money, they ask for all rights to the material, likely so that they can publish it as a way of opening a dialogue about that topic. Chances are you'll be writing an entry that will be difficult to submit elsewhere. If the prize money is generous enough that it equals what you would be paid elsewhere for the material, or you agree with the cause, it may be worth entering.
Otherwise, watch out for competitions in which the rules state you are forfeiting all rights to your material just by entering, or as a condition of winning. What do they have to gain and how much do you have to lose? Would a literary agent let you forfeit all your rights to material submitted to a publisher? Probably not.
6. You spot language in the contest rules that makes you uncomfortable.
It's always a wise idea to read the rules before entering a competition. One clause I've seen a lot of in recent competitions, even ones run by respectable groups, is the our judges may have ideas similar to yours, so don't blame us or feel ripped off if a year from now our judges put out a movie or book that sounds a lot like your entry.
Understand, I'm paraphrasing here; the actual rule is usually written in legalese. While I can understand the reason for the rule–some writers may think their ideas are unique, when they're really generic–I still don't like it. A rule like this makes me queasy, particularly with screenplay contests. It makes working screenwriters I've spoken with queasy.
As a writer, it's up to you to decide what is acceptable or not in a competition. Consider the rules carefully but remember that just because a rule exists, it doesn't mean the worst will happen.
7. There's a chance your material will never reach a judge with professional experience.
Depending on the number of entries, your material may be screened by a first reader rather than a judge. That reader may have very little or even no professional experience in publishing, film, or the category for the competition.
How is this different from agents who frequently employee assistants straight out of college with little or no experience to go through their slush piles? Presumably these assistants have been trained to recognize quality writing. With some small, locally run contests, however, the initial screeners may not be skilled readers, published writers, or have any qualifications other than a sincere desire to volunteer for the organization. One could argue that talent rises to the top regardless. Nothing says an experienced reader will like your material any better than a less experienced reader, or vice versa, but it is something to consider.
In addition, you may have concerns about your material being appropriated by someone who may or may not understand the concept of plagiarism and copyrights, and innocently think your ideas are a great springboard for their own stories.
8. You aren't that excited about the work you're entering.
Some writers use competitions as a way of "submitting" work that hasn't been successful in the regular publishing marketplace. From a business standpoint, this is an admirable way to use everything a writer writes, especially high-quality, less commercial work. Smaller, legitimate contests where the odds of winning are greater, are also a terrific way for beginners to potentially add some credits to the bottom of their query letters.
That said, a writing competition is basically a lottery, albeit a lottery where the writer's skill and ideas may skew the odds in his or her favor. How much money do you want to blow on the literary equivalent of a scratcher, for work that may not be your best?
9. Entering the contest means loosing an opportunity for your material to succeed elsewhere.
Presumably, the goal of writing is to be published, not win competitions. Before you enter a contest, ask yourself if your time might not be better spent writing another manuscript for submission to editors and publishers.
Of course, you may be able to do both. Unless specifically stated otherwise in the rules, you are free to submit the same manuscript to as many contests and markets as you'd like. If fortune strikes, and you sell your work before a competition is decided, congratulations! Simply withdraw your entry and politely thank the competition organizers for considering it.
