2020 countdown of readers’ favorite posts and blastoff!

DL Hammons annual WRiTE CLUB readers’ choice contest garners attention each spring. I contacted DL (full disclosure – he’s one of my critique partners) and at this time, he’s still planning to a 2021 production. Thankfully, it’s all online! The following post is based on comments of the contests slushpile readers as of April 2020, so things may change in a few months. Also, one of the perks of the contest is a chance for recognition at the annual conference hosted by the DFW Writers Workshop. In 2020, the conference fell victim to the pandemic, and as of this month’s DFWWW board meeting, its fate is still undecided. Here’s hoping the pandemic will have waned by the 2021 conference dates, June 12-13.    

What WRiTE CLUB slushpile readers want to see! 

It’s crunch time for submissions to the 2020 edition (and ninth year!) of DL Hammons WRiTE CLUB contest. Entries for the readers’ choice event are soon. And although one of the winner’s perks – recognition at the DFW Writers Conference – will be missing, a victim of the current pandemic, there’s still plenty to gain. 

The top 30 submissions, as determined by Hammons’ volunteer crew of slushpile readers, will receive feedback from online readers. And the surviving finalists will get eyes on their writing samples from publishing industry pros. 

This year I return as one of those slush readers winnowing the initial entrants. We joined Hammons recently on Twitter to share the secrets of what it takes to win our hearts. I’ll recap while expanding on my own preferences. Pay attention – you may just find yourself in the winner’s circle!

It shouldn't need saying but I will -- contestants must produce a strong writing sample.

Over and over, slushpile readers made statements such as, “Writing quality is my highest weighted category. A really well-written piece can make up for other things I might not like.” 

And, “Give me a STRONG hook! I cannot stress this enough. Grab me before my mind and wander and don’t let me go until the end.” 

Or, “Great writing is my number one criteria. I know that’s subjective, but for me it’s about whether your story draws me in: is your dialogue realistic, do you have the right blend of dialogue, emotions, action, and world building.” 

And with a 500-word limit on entries, every blow – I mean word – has to punch above its weight.

“What’s the key to my vote?” another slushpile reader tweeted. “It’s really, really, simple: tight writing. SUPER tight. No dramatics, no clichés. I don’t even care what genre; a strong premise is only a bonus. I just want to know you can tell a story.” 

So, does a 500-word limit mean the contest is limited to flash fiction? Not at all. Flash is perfectly OK, but those of the 30 original contestants who make it through the early rounds of reader feedback will be expected to produce additional – and longer – writing samples. This probably explains why most of the entries I’ve seen so far appear to be excerpts from longer works. 

But as I’ve told my own critique group, the writing sample doesn’t have to be verbatim from a longer piece. Choosing which elements are essential and which can be temporarily dispensed with is an art. What I’ve seen a little too much of, both this year and last, when I also read slush, is the lack of arc. There may be lyrical writing or great character sketches, but even with only a fragment of scene, the sample has to show a potential to go somewhere, to have legs.

As a fellow slushie tweeted, “A gripping first sentence does a lot for me, but something has to actually happen in the story. It can’t just be all exposition.” 

Other tweets – “I was glued to the story. . .” 

“The writer managed to get into my head. . .” 

“Make me forget about #COVID-19. Even if only for a few minutes. Give me a story that will consume my mind and emotions with something else.” 

So, you’ve got a strong opening, a gripping middle. . . how about that ending? Remembering it’s not necessarily the ending of the entire story, only of this 500-word fragment. 

Slushies say, “Bonus points for a surprise ending. . . I really LOVE surprise endings.” And, “One of my favorites so far had a fantastic twist at the end. I want to know what happens!” And, “If it’s not a short (story) with closure, I need at least a signpost or tip of the hat as to where the author is taking me.” 

A slushpile reader quoted earlier not caring about genre, but some do pine for more variation in genres. Admittedly, with most entries expected in this final week, it’s still surprising that I’ve counted fewer than a half-dozen YA submissions. 

Other slushies tweeted, “I’d love to see some nonfiction and memoirs,” and “I wouldn’t mind seeing more horror entries. . . hint, hint.” (Although as another noted, “I like my horror IMPLIED, not graphic or gory!” Slushpile readers also like humor, either as a stand-alone genre or sprinkled into other genres. And speaking personally, I’m a sucker for mysteries, historicals, and thrillers. 

And although great writing is tops on we slushies’ lists of must-haves, we’re not immune to pickier issues. “Suck me in, trap me, make me care,” one tweeted. “I’m more lax on grammar. I’ll even skip over it if I’m engrossed but if it comes down to a submission with good grammar vs. one with not-go-good. . .” 

And, “If I’m debating between two great pieces, proper grammar can tip the scales.” And another, “I’m not a huge stickler for grammar mistakes, but it if keeps pulling out of the story? It will affect my vote at that point.” 

So, there you have it, writers! Great writing, strong beginning, a story arc with strong ending. And don’t ignore your word processor’s grammar suggestions. 

*** 

Another popular post of 2020 was the following, dealing with the Twitter-based #10Queries online contest. I haven’t seen a date for 2021 yet, but most likely it will occur this coming February. 

What can we learn from #10Queries feedback? 

Why is hearing takes on other writers’ queries so much less painful than writing our own? Thank dog the editors’ posts from Revise & Resub’s recent #10Queries competition were anonymous! And though it sometimes seemed as if, for every 10 editors in a room there were 20 answers on how to write a perfect query, some issues in the submitted query letters appeared often enough to generate consensus. 

Issues such as: conflict – whether it’s a fistfight or a galactic war. And stakes – what will be gained or lost by the conflict. Conflict and stakes are the heart of stories, but one editor after another posted comments like: “conflict is unclear. What’s at stake?” Or, “motivation and stakes for the main character need to be upped. What are the personal stakes if they don’t succeed?” Or, “focus on conflict and stakes and what makes them unique.” 

But can’t a writer just narrate to the reader – agent or editor – what happens in the novel? Won’t that cover the issues of conflict and stakes? 

Sorry, as any reader of this blog – or attendee at the Dallas-Fort Worth Writers Conference’s infamous query gong shows knows -- spending significant query real estate on plot still may not make clear why the characters are running around like Energizer bunnies. 

#10Queries editors weren’t as brutal as agents at the gong show contest about saying that what they read was sometimes too darn long. Instead, they used more diplomatic language such as “heavy on setup and introducing characters but. . .” And “too many details about the story but at the same time is too vague on the important points.” Or, “feels more like narrative than tight, concise query.” Or the just plain, “simplify.” 

So far, it may sound as if the editors were focused on the what than the who of authors’ queries. Not so. Remember those “personal stakes” mentioned earlier? So, editors also included such comments as, “give us more of (the main characters’) motivation,” and “tell us why they care about the particular event in the query.” Or, “Clear goals but no motive. . . goals are nothing if the character doesn’t have a reason for the goal.” 

Editors also wanted to meet the characters who have those goals right away. One gave a “hm” to a writer who didn’t mention the main character until the second paragraph (but recovered with sharp voice and wit). 

And while editors loved characters who “feel so authentic,” they could also say, “make it clearer who the main character is.” 

And on the issue of the unlikable character one editor noted, “the woe-is-me character right from the get-go makes him a bit unlikable. . . I want an emotional connection before I can agree that him dying would be a bad idea.” 

One editor also posted a “random thought” about two issues that have always bothered me – “the importance of hooks and comp titles.” 

Image: Pixabay

Obviously, a hook is something that will immediately catch a reader’s attention, but what does it take to do that? As someone who’s tried starting with action only to receive a “meh” response, I dug further and found this answer (of a sort) at the site Literary Devices: “. . . not all hooks are based in action. They can also present a character, or group of characters with interesting traits, a thematic opening statement, or a mysterious and intriguing setting.” 

Beware though – in a query letter, that hook had better be short! 

And comp – that is, comparison – titles? Editors at #10Queries could say that a writer’s comps were “amazing!” as well as note that they were “a bit unfamiliar.” 

Probably like most writers, I feel that my stories are unique. What can we possibly find to compare them to? The Reedsy blog, among other resources, makes suggestions, including dos and don’ts for comp titles. 

My personal suggestions are to check our Goodreads follow-ups of the “you finished X, now what” variety, and Amazon’s listing of books bought by those who read the books we loved to read. And then, of course, to actually look at the suggested books. 

I’ll close with the easy stuff from the #10Queries editors, but not so easy that I didn’t have fails in this area. Remember that it’s the writing that counts, not the clothes it wears. Don’t make the query, as one editor noted, “difficult on the eye,” with small fonts and chunks of italics. Don’t forget to include age group, genre, word count and title – the last in all capitals. 

But wait -- here’s the real closer – the submissions window for #RevPit, Revise & Resub’s annual contest on Twitter (usually open in April). Put what we’ve learned into practice and save the date!