Contest Caution

It's that time of year again. Contests abound for romance writers.

So far this year (and remember, it's only February), I've judged the RITA entries I was assigned to, judged the entries in my local chapter's contest for unpublished authors, and am waiting for the entries in the Hearts Through History contest for unpublished authors.

Why do I so willingly give of my time to judge contests? The answer is very simple. The feedback I got from contests helped me become a published author, and I want to return the favor. Besides, with the RITA entries, you have no choice. If you enter a book into that contest, you must read some entries. It's a huge contest, with 2,000 entries, all needing five judges each. Imagine the logistics nightmare the RWA staff has each January.

Contests are not the only place where you can get feedback. Any number of workshops are offered each week, geared to improving some aspect or the other of your work. Feedback from these workshops can also be invaluable. With my most recent historical, currently still a WIP, someone caught the fact I was leaving the cow in the pasture overnight. Obviously the woman had more farming knowledge than I did, since she flagged it for my attention. A quick check with my 80-year-old uncle verified the woman's claim. Something as precious as a cow would have been brought in from the pasture each night and put in the barn, away from predators. My entire story had to change, but without that input, I'd have been laughed out of every farming community in the country.

But I have to throw out a note of caution in both instances. Chances are the person reading your work doesn't write in your particular genre, and if that's the case, their remarks should not be considered gospel. Their overall impression of your work–fine–but individual remarks? Not so much. I recently had a case where the work I was judging was set in ancient Scotland. I know nothing about the era, other than what I see on the Outlander series, so some of the words tripped me up. I had to put in my notes to the author that I was unschooled in her particular genre, so she should only consider my overall impression of her work. And then, someone who was remarking on my work–a historical set in 1860s America–referred to a medical condition that has only been diagnosed in the past twenty years. Again, I fact-checked my work and found that, in this case, anyway, I was correct.

The moral of this story is this–your work needs to be viewed by someone other than your family and friends, in order to get constructive criticism, and contests and workshops are a very good way to accomplish this. But not everyone who offers feedback is competent to do so.

A grain of salt needs to be added in each time a person gets a contest entry back with comments. But you should enter your work, and get back comments. It will only improve your writing.

The Power Of Repetition

I attended a writer’s workshop yesterday. The instructor, whose teaching is not limited to romance authors, told a roomful of romance writers that we have to unlearn things in order to get better. Years of devouring romances have taught us bad habits and we need to break away from the old way of doing things in order to someday reach the NY Times bestseller list.

Interesting stuff.

Case in point. In my critique group, we have a person who has an English major background. She takes her red pen and underlines places where I’ve reused a word in a paragraph or (heaven forbid!) the same sentence. So, I’ve been diligently removing repetitive words from my manuscripts for years now. Except in places where I’ve meant to do it. That’s when I put my foot down. (Speaking of putting your foot down, that’s a cliché to avoid, but that’s a topic for another post.)

Turns out, putting my foot down when I intentionally reused a word or phrase was the correct response. Repetition can be a powerful tool in writing. It creates cadence and flow. And, if you were just zooming along through the story, using the same phrase over and over will draw your attention to the sentence and make you aware that something is about to happen. Something that involves those particular words. It’s a common enough device, used by poets, orators, songwriters and, lo and behold, great writers. Here’s an example: "We must all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately." (Benjamin Franklin)

My English major red-pen toting friend is still correct in pointing out my overuse of some words. The repetition of words and phrases loses its power if sloppily applied. But when you want to highlight or ratchet up the tension, it’s definitely a tool to pull from your arsenal of writing techniques.

I’d say the cost of the workshop was money well spent.