The Water's Fine. Take the Contest Plunge. Keep an Eye Out for the Sharks

  

Janet here. Between SpeedBo and the arrival of our kids for spring break, I found myself scrambling for my April post. I tromped through the Seekerville archives—always a good decision if you’re looking for inspiration—to a post I wrote before the release of my debut novel Courting Miss Adelaide. I dusted off and embellished my words, hoping that if any of you are hovering on the contest diving board, this post will give you the shove, ah nudge, you need to take the plunge.

In 1997, as green as a gourd in spring, I joined Romance Writers of America and immediately entered my first manuscript in a contest. When the entry came back, I ranked 38th out of 40. I was shocked. I’d expected to win. You’re probably laughing. But honestly, the years I knew nothing were the years I possessed the most confidence. Anyone relate? I could fill a page with the problems the judges saw in that chapter. Some quotes: “Very long and, I’m sorry to say, boring chapter.” Ouch. “Back story dump.” What? “Start the book here.” Ah. “Dialogue is stiff and formal.” Sigh. “POV switches.” Huh? No doubt those judges pulled out huge hanks of hair as they read my chapter. Thankfully, they found something positive to say. One even said I was a storyteller. I clung to those encouraging words and revised. And revised and revised.

I’m not admitting all this because I’m proud, at least not of the work. But looking back I am proud of my attitude. I didn’t whine. I didn’t give up. I didn’t believe the judges had awakened on the wrong side of the bed. Instead I was excited. If my writing wasn’t good enough, then at least I had specifics on what was wrong. True, those specifics were vague, at least for this newbie. So I studied craft. Found out POV stood for point of view. I became a POV purist, only switching heads at scene breaks, mainly because I couldn’t switch seamlessly for the life of me. I still like sticking to one POV per scene. I learned to sprinkle in back story and leave the reader guessing. I learned to read dialogue aloud. I learned readers can’t root for a hero and heroine without a strong goal. I learned strong motivations and conflict are vital. I reworked that book for a year. It never did final.

The lesson—move on. Write another book. But never toss one either.  

As I improved my craft and started to final and even win, I wanted more than feedback. I wanted a chance to get my manuscript in front of an editor. So I entered contests with editor judges I wanted to target. Then in 2005, I was an inspirational finalist in RWA’s Golden Heart, which gives no feedback, but by then, I needed the validation desperately. In 2006, I was an American Christian Fiction Writers Genesis finalist and a Golden Heart finalist. I didn’t know it at the time, but these were to be my last unpublished contests. I sold my book in 2006, nine years after I wrote the first one. I didn’t sell it because of a contest, but entering had educated me and proved I was serious about publication. Entering had given me name recognition with editors. And most importantly a shot in the arm. The contests I tanked in toughened my hide, a must before and after we sell.

After you say? Yes, published authors experience rejected proposals, revisions that fluctuate between minor and mindboggling, and reader reviews that leave us giddy to crestfallen. The hardest part of bad reviews—the book is in print. We can’t change a word if we wanted to. Not that all criticism is valid. Some readers have axes to grind and our books are handy whetstones. Still, most reviewers are sharing their heartfelt opinion, not trying to wound authors. Dealing with contests highs and lows over the years has helped me keep reviews in perspective.  Well, sort of. It helps to remember that not all reviews are written by our readership. Inspirational novels set some readers’ teeth on edge. But, in God’s hands our stories just might make a difference.   

My sixth novel The Bride Wore Spurs released April 2. I still have contest fever. I’ve

wondered if it’s a vanity issue. But really, how could it be when it’s much harder to final in published contests, at least for me. When I final, I’ve learned to let my editor know. The book is important to her too. When I don’t final, I’m disappointed, but I try to keep it in perspective. No matter what others say,  God has called me to write. With each book, with God’s help, I do the best I can. Often when my author copies arrive, I put off reading the book, afraid I’ll find errors or poorly written passages or some historical tidbit I got wrong. And you know what? I do. Authors are human. At least this one is. Though I do wonder about those who can write a book a month. LOL Color me green with envy. Not what God wants. Proof I'm not to compare myself and my journey to others. Once I’ve done my best, that’s all I can do. And it’s the same for you.

Earlier I told you to never toss out that book you’ve got hiding under your bed. That first book I told you about that never garnered a final was the impetus for The Bride Wore Spurs. Most of the story had to go, but I salvaged my hero and heroine, Matt and Hannah, two people I wanted to give a Happily After Ending in print and the setting, a cattle ranch in Texas, a way of life that has always intrigued me. Nothing is wasted in this journey. Whether we give those languishing stories life or not, they’ve taught us plenty.

We writers can’t play it safe and make it in the publishing world. So take the plunge and enter a contest. Open yourself and your books to criticism. The sharks are scary but they can’t hurt you if you don’t let them. The rewards far outweigh the cost.

To celebrate the release of The Bride Wore Spurs I’m giving away three copies. Leave a comment for a chance to win. Here’s the back cover blurb:

The cowgirl takes a husband!

To keep the Texas ranch she loves, Hannah Parrish will wed a man she doesn’t. Cowpokes won’t take orders from a young, single female. But while her exasperating neighbor Matt Walker jokes about her being a mere debutante, Hannah is a rancher to the core. Just like Matt.

“Will you marry me?” It’s a question widowed Matt never intended to ask again. Now spirited Hannah is asking him for a marriage of convenience! Yet whether she’s birthing a calf or caring for a young orphan, the tomboy next door is becoming the partner Matt always hope for. Now he must convince her the greatest strength comes in trusting your heart to another—and your future to God….

I brought scones and blintzes, tea, fruit, yogurt and juice, a light breakfast to keep us from sinking in contest waters.