Playing the writing game has meant working with a whole new vocabulary. Protagonist. Antagonist. Main opponent. False ally. Inciting incident. Character web.
When I began entering competitions, I learned even more. It surprised me that each submission isn’t necessarily read by the same person and that an entry can be set aside after only a few paragraphs because there may be hundreds of stories to read. Only the ones that capture the interest of the reader or judge early will be read to the end. That was a bit sobering. ‘The Hook’ is called that for a reason!
I also had to become familiar with new concepts, like ‘style guide’, which can differ greatly depending on the competition, ‘line limit’ instead of word limit for poetry, and ‘longlist’.
I’d heard of a shortlist, but it turns out that’s much further along the path. Let’s say there are 400 entries in a competition. The judge/s compile a list of the ones they want to move forward, which form the longlist. The journey is then over for any work not on that list. Allowing for differences in the structure of each competition, the next step is often that the judges use the longlist to create a shortlist, and from that group, they choose an ultimate winner.
At first, I assumed I would win everything I entered. After all, my friends all tell me I’m a good writer. But I quickly learned I am just one of many good writers, all trying for the same prize.
So, I changed my goal. I decided I would be thrilled if I made it onto a longlist. And, a few weeks ago, to my utter delight, I did.
I entered a competition called Grieve, which is an invitation by the Hunter Writers Centre in New South Wales (NSW) for people to talk about the harder things in life. I submitted four pieces of work (two stories and two poems) discussing different aspects of grief.
The Hunter Writers Centre advised that the people they wanted to work with would know by the end of July. By the time we reached the final week of the month, I hadn’t been contacted and accepted that I hadn’t gotten anywhere. I let myself have half a day to feel disappointed and then moved my focus to something else.
But, on the 30th of July, the Hunter Writers Centre emailed to explain they had been deluged by a staggered 850 submissions and would let people know the next day if they had been successful in getting on the longlist. If an entrant hadn’t received an email by the close of business (COB) on July 31st, their work was not being advanced. Either way, the Hunter Writers Centre acknowledged each entrant’s experiences and thanked everyone for trusting them with their stories.
My heart was instantly in my throat. Butterflies held a rave in my stomach. I had given up hope but now it returned full force, despite my previous acceptance of not getting anywhere.
I quickly worked out that the assumed COB of 5 pm New South Wales time is 3 pm Western Australian time. I resolved not to check my emails until then, so I didn’t ‘Hope Check’ all day. And yet, the next morning, there I was, checking my inbox as soon as I got up.
Every 30 minutes, from getting out of bed to going to work, I held my breath and checked my email. Then I did a bit of sneak check while I was at work and was astonished to find I had received a longlist email. The instant complication in checking when I shouldn’t have was that everyone was busy with students, and I couldn’t say anything until we all stopped for lunch. Holding in my news hurt!
My poem titled It’s All Mental, which discusses my grandmother’s schizophrenia, had been accepted onto the Long List. If I’d been at home, I’d have instantly jumped in the shower to process my thoughts. At work, though, all I could do was wander around trying to explain to my workmates that being on the list was a literary highlight for me. I also reread the email a few times in case I’d read it wrong and wasn’t on the list.
I was delighted to be on a Long List, but I hadn’t entered just for the chance to be one of the people named. I also appreciated the opportunity to talk about walking – or wading – through grief and loss. To discuss mental illness and its generational impact. To lament. To grieve with others walking the same path. To talk about the things people shut down because they feel uncomfortable or because they’re also on a journey of trying to understand where life has led them.
Today, August 31st, 2024, the Hunter Writers Centre will acknowledge Grief Awareness Month by hosting The Lament. During the event, they will announce the names of those whose work has earned a prize and present their work. Whether my poem proceeds any further or not, I am beyond thrilled that someone liked or enjoyed or appreciated something I wrote enough to advance it to the long list.
As much as it probably sounds strange to say I am looking forward to listening to or viewing other people’s responses to grief and loss, it is the truth. I think it will be interesting to see the different types of creative expression. I know some stories will be heartbreaking, but our journeys through hardships can bring us closer together through shared human experience – if we’re willing to let them.
Since I couldn’t get to NSW, I will be watching The Lament on Livestream. It begins at 1:30pm Perth time (3:30 pm Eastern States). If you’d like to join me in viewing what I believe will be a captivating event, follow this link: https://hunterwriterscentre.org/2024/08/20/lament-a-community-gathering/
A Glorious Mess 