I post this anecdote with some trepidation. I am exposing thoughts and behaviour that, until now, only my husband has been privy to. The aim of this post is to demonstrate that mistakes are a necessary part of the writing journey – as long as you learn from them.
Last year (2013) I entered some picture book manuscripts in Kids’ Book Review (KBR) Unpublished Picture Book Competition and the Children’s and Young Adult (CYA) Conference Writing Competition for the first time. One of which was the first picture book manuscript I had written. Both competitions provide judge’s feedback for every entry.
The KBR shortlist was released first and I wasn’t surprised that I wasn’t on it. After the winner and notable entries were announced, the feedback was emailed. The feedback was what I had been waiting for…
I am now ashamed to say that my reaction to the feedback could only be described as…poor. I had a Shakespearian tantrum – woe was me! Mel became short for melancholy. Obviously, the judges didn’t ‘get’ what I was trying to achieve with this story. Never mind, there was another competition and more feedback coming.
Last year (2013) I entered some picture book manuscripts in Kids’ Book Review (KBR) Unpublished Picture Book Competition and the Children’s and Young Adult (CYA) Conference Writing Competition for the first time. One of which was the first picture book manuscript I had written. Both competitions provide judge’s feedback for every entry.
The KBR shortlist was released first and I wasn’t surprised that I wasn’t on it. After the winner and notable entries were announced, the feedback was emailed. The feedback was what I had been waiting for…
I am now ashamed to say that my reaction to the feedback could only be described as…poor. I had a Shakespearian tantrum – woe was me! Mel became short for melancholy. Obviously, the judges didn’t ‘get’ what I was trying to achieve with this story. Never mind, there was another competition and more feedback coming.
The CYA short list was published, again I didn’t expect to be on it. The winners were announced at the
Conference. The feedback was delayed due to hiccups with technology. Then the email arrived. A small sonic boom reverberated around the room because my double click on the mouse was so fast. Again, I sighed and lamented, and would you believe it, they said similar things as the KBR judges.
The CYA competition also ranks your story against all the other entries in your chosen category. I remember thinking to myself, “Surely I will be in the top 20 or close. There is NO WAY my story could be in the lowest rankings. I would hate to be one of those people.” (I had it coming, didn’t I?) The rankings were posted on the website a short time later. My story was 124 out of 148. I have vague memories of a soliloquy to rival Hamlet’s, but I may have blocked most of this out due to severe embarrassment on my part.
As much as I hated to admit it, there was something wrong with my story. But, I loved that story, it was a very personal story, there was no way I could change it.
Deep down I knew I needed to get from, “I can’t possibly change it,” to “What do I need to change,” if I wanted this story to reach its full potential. I needed to get some space. I had to mature and only time would enable me to do that. I found a document folder, printed off all the feedback, put it in the folder and placed it in my wine rack, within arm’s reach of my writing spot at the kitchen table.
This year, I have entered the competitions again. This year I am not on the short lists again, but I am really looking forward to getting the feedback. I will read the comments once, create my folder, print off the story and the feedback, place the folder in my wine rack, and move onto something else until I am ready to rewrite and edit and re-submit the new draft for critique, then I will do it all again.
Conference. The feedback was delayed due to hiccups with technology. Then the email arrived. A small sonic boom reverberated around the room because my double click on the mouse was so fast. Again, I sighed and lamented, and would you believe it, they said similar things as the KBR judges.
The CYA competition also ranks your story against all the other entries in your chosen category. I remember thinking to myself, “Surely I will be in the top 20 or close. There is NO WAY my story could be in the lowest rankings. I would hate to be one of those people.” (I had it coming, didn’t I?) The rankings were posted on the website a short time later. My story was 124 out of 148. I have vague memories of a soliloquy to rival Hamlet’s, but I may have blocked most of this out due to severe embarrassment on my part.
As much as I hated to admit it, there was something wrong with my story. But, I loved that story, it was a very personal story, there was no way I could change it.
Deep down I knew I needed to get from, “I can’t possibly change it,” to “What do I need to change,” if I wanted this story to reach its full potential. I needed to get some space. I had to mature and only time would enable me to do that. I found a document folder, printed off all the feedback, put it in the folder and placed it in my wine rack, within arm’s reach of my writing spot at the kitchen table.
This year, I have entered the competitions again. This year I am not on the short lists again, but I am really looking forward to getting the feedback. I will read the comments once, create my folder, print off the story and the feedback, place the folder in my wine rack, and move onto something else until I am ready to rewrite and edit and re-submit the new draft for critique, then I will do it all again.
I have learned a few things about feedack in the past few months:
I know that most of the above is obvious in hindsight. There are many articles that make similar points. However, at times the only way to learn and grow is to make your own mistakes and experience a well trodden path yourself. My Dad often said, “…mistakes are a sign of trying, if you don’t want to make mistakes then stay at home and do nothing…”.
Oh, the story that features in this post has rested in the wine rack for nearly ten months before the
solution came searching for me. I have made some changes and submitted it, along with another story, for an editor’s feedback appointment for this year’s CYA conference. It’s not Grange yet, but without opening the bottle and taking a sip I won’t know how it’s aging. One thing is certain, this story has already moved
from Bad Whine to Good Wine with a little bit of time and being left alone while I mature.
- The obstacle to better writing is my reaction to undesirable news – not the
news itself. - It’s ok to be disappointed, then I must remember my goals and keep
going. - Loving my stories too much will result in my feelings being unrequited – that hurts
more than rewriting.
I know that most of the above is obvious in hindsight. There are many articles that make similar points. However, at times the only way to learn and grow is to make your own mistakes and experience a well trodden path yourself. My Dad often said, “…mistakes are a sign of trying, if you don’t want to make mistakes then stay at home and do nothing…”.
Oh, the story that features in this post has rested in the wine rack for nearly ten months before the
solution came searching for me. I have made some changes and submitted it, along with another story, for an editor’s feedback appointment for this year’s CYA conference. It’s not Grange yet, but without opening the bottle and taking a sip I won’t know how it’s aging. One thing is certain, this story has already moved
from Bad Whine to Good Wine with a little bit of time and being left alone while I mature.