Don’t know what this is about? My previous general post about it is, um… this one.
First, don’t get excited: as I learned a couple days ago, I’m not advancing beyond the first round. I’m posting this just in a spirit of full disclosure, sorta… After paying so much recent attention at RAMH to my “Microfiction Practice” (although less than I wanted to), it doesn’t feel sporting that I just skulk into silence on the subject.
So, below — using the same format I used for the practice sessions — I’ll share my entry. And then I’ll include the judges’ comments, and some wrapping-up remarks of my own.
___
Assignment:
- Genre: romance
- Word: forget
- Action/Subject: roller skating
Story (99 words, per Microsoft Word):
Marj was on her fifteenth practice lap of the rink, shooting for sixteen. Yet also preoccupied: while counting (“Fifteen… fifteen… fifteen…”), she still fumed over yesterday’s crossword puzzle (“FORGETIVE,” Jesus!, who’d ever encountered “FORGETIVE”? no one in the English Department — she’d asked!). When it came, the collision flipped her head-over-heels over someone else’s ditto. Dazed, Marj raised herself on her elbows, turned to glare at the someone else. OMeffingG: Lydie, Marj’s first. Lydie looked FABULOUS. Her legs, her LEGS, Marj never imagined—
They laughed about that the rest of their lives. “Marj” (Lydie would say) “just wasn’t forgetive enough.”
Judges’ remarks:
Everyone who enters an NYC Midnight contest gets feedback on their entry. (This is so unusual for an unsolicited-submission arrangement that it alone feels deserving of the entry fee.) The feedback includes a section for what the judges liked, and what they thought needed work.
So then, for “What Goes Around” (note: numbers in braces, like {1980}, are the anonymous identifiers for the respective judges):
“What the judges liked”:
{1980} The pace of this story was highly effective in mirroring the mindset of Marj.
{1611) This is a compelling story with a strong voice.
{1906} I thought the premise of this story was original, and that it was a creative interpretation of the assignment. The action was well-described, and I could picture everything very well as it unfolded. I appreciated the immediacy of this story, and how we are thrust into the action right from the very beginning.
“What the judges feel needs work”:
{1980} Although the pacing in this story was quick and manic, the action could be clarified to provide a stronger sense of movement. By strengthening moments such as “…the collision flipped her head-over-heels over someone else’s ditto,” it would amplify the emotional impact of the final moments. What does this collision look like? Is she literally head-over-heels?
{1611) Two things I wasn’t certain of. What did you intend by this: “someone else’s ditto.” Also, is that the correct usage of “forgetive” (Inventive)?
{1906} I would maybe just like a bit more context for the story–for instance, how old is Marj? Her name and interest in crosswords make me think that she is older, but then she says “OMeffingG,” which makes me think she is younger.
Who are the judges, you might be wondering? There’s no way to know. While NYC Midnight never announces a particular contest’s judges in advance, they do offer the capsule bios (written by the judges themselves) of those from prior contests. In general, they include writers, teachers, editors, consultants… I myself have never recognized any of the names, which is neither here nor there. (It just means I’m not even remotely “plugged in” to anything like a writing network.)
Here’s the list of selected bios from previous contests, as posted prior to the current 100-Word Microfiction contest.
And it’s true, of course: some of the judges’ “needs work” comments rankle. (Especially the one who asked about “forgetive”; yes, it means “inventive”… and also “imaginative.” Hence the tie-in to the Marj never imagined conclusion.)
And yet:
- Honestly and truly: this feedback is just like the feedback I’ve gotten from “real” editors, on “real” writing submissions, over the last 30+ years — even the feedback on pieces accepted for publication. It’s just a fact of life: anyone who reads fiction often, and/or attempts to write fiction, always believes they would have done something differently than the real writer of sentence A, B, or C. It’s just part of the gestalt — it seems impossible to give someone “negative” feedback free of a “Here’s how I would have done it” implication.
- I never ever want to be a judge for a writing contest, let alone one like NYC Midnight’s offerings (because of how many entries they attract). The shortness of the stories is immaterial; they still have to be read and thought about enough to engender commentary… and, in NYC Midnight’s case, this must be undertaken dozens, maybe hundreds of times by each editor. *shudder*
So, bottom line?
I can’t say I’m disappointed at the result, or sorry to have entered. It gave me a valuable opportunity: on my own, I’d never have endeavored writing a story of 100 words or less in length, in any way other than as a lark. I discovered it’s possible for me to do so (frankly, an astonishing lesson). To do so successfully? Well, of course I still dunno about that… Some writers do it, I know, and some subset of those get paid for their work (although it’s unlikely anyone will ever subsist on their 100-word microfiction payments). But it’s not a size or style in which I “fit” — and that, too, is a valuable lesson. One less thing to worry about!
Anyhow, I probably haven’t entered the last writing competition I’ll ever enter. Plenty more creative challenges to come, right?
Note: I should mention, by the way, that The Missus also took part in this challenge. And although she also will not advance to Round 2, she, at least, got an Honorable Mention for her effort. Well-done, Missus!
