Welcome to The VERB!

I had another V-8 moment the other day. And I really wish I'd stop it because I'm usually holding a glass or a cup when I hit my forehead, and that hurts.

But I digress.

We've reached the end of another writing contest, and it's time to announce the results. This is also the time when I'll receive a slew of emails from entrants asking what was wrong with their entry and why they didn't win. I completely understand the curiosity, and although I'd like to provide free feedback for every submission—especially to those who erroneously presume that because their story didn't win, it must be bad—there's simply no way I can do that and still eat. (This is why we now offer the half price Contest Opinion for those who want an analysis of their work.)

But there is something I'd like to address here, something that came from a particular email and perhaps something you yourself have wondered. (Note: Under no circumstances, including the elimination of my music and Dr. Pepper, would I publicly discuss an email or a submission without the expressed written consent of the NFL… um, I mean, the author in question.)

Elizabeth, just how do you choose the Honorable Mentions and the Winner from so many? It can't be the writing only, can it?

The short answer, it's a process. The long answer, well, before I tell you the long answer, I realized (insert V-8 moment here) that maybe many of you wonder if this is a popularity contest or one in which bribes, bottles of wine and bars of chocolate come into play, and that maybe I should open up and let you know how I, one contest judge, go through the process of choosing the Winner and Honorable Mentions.

Let's begin at the beginning: finding the appropriate music. This time, I read entries accompanied by Sarah McLachlan's Mirrorball. (Get it? Mirror, mirror on the wall?) I don't always choose music based solely on the contest title, but this one was just too cool to ignore. The music has to pull its weight—melodic, inspiring, unobtrusive—and this CD delivered on all counts. Nice job, Sarah.

Next, I curl up with my lappy (that's laptop for all you newbies) and open the file labeled, in this case, "Silent Character Contest." This file was created the first day of the contest. I've also set up my email account to automatically forward a copy of each submission to another account that can be accessed on my PC, should my lappy crash. Shhhh, let's not speak of that which we should not speak.

So with the music playing, beverage flowing and breeze blowing, I commence the act of reading. Every single submission, from beginning to end. Yes, to the very last word. I know some judges who stop reading as soon as they lose interest, and that's fine. We all have the right to decide how to use our time. I just figure that if a writer takes the time to submit, the least I can do is read the entire thing. Even when I know after the first paragraph—and yeah, after reading stacks of submissions, you do tend to know these things early on—that an entry is lacking in some way, I keep reading. All contest submissions deserve that much.

Since entries start showing up on the first day and steadily arrive throughout the allotted time period, I usually set aside at least an hour a day just for them, to avoid a huge backup. Sometimes I peruse them over lunch—my latest, a steamy bowl of soup with whole grain Goldfish crackers—or whenever I've taken a break from my other work. Seldom do I focus on contest entries all day long because I can easily burn out that way, and I want to remain fresh and enthusiastic while I explore your imagination.

After I complete an entry, I have one of two words dancing in my head. Either yep or nope. If it's a no, I close the entry and move on to the next one. If it's a yes, I move that entry to another file titled, "Contest Maybes." I continue this procedure until I've exhausted the list.

This is called the First Round.

After the contest has officially ended, I return to the "Contest Maybes" file and read again. This is when my editorial focus narrows considerably. These entries caught my eye on the first run for some reason: voice, characters, dialogue, overall story or all of the above. But now I study the execution. And you can read more about that process in an earlier article. The ones that still hold up, remain in the "Maybes" file. Those that don't, return to the original contest file.

This is called the Second Round.

I let those remaining ones set for a few days and then go back one last time. This is when a great story that adheres 100% to the guidelines will win over a great story with misspelled words, bad grammar and poor formatting. It's the little things, y'know? For instance, I can tell, just by the way you label your email subject, whether you've read the contest guidelines. This doesn't mean the wrong subject line will exclude a story from the contest—that would be just a tad tyrannical—but I notice. Agents and editors do as well. It's a small thing, but it has rescued many a submission from the junk file.

This final stage, by the way, is the most difficult. These entries are truly the crème de la crème and selecting the best is not a simple thing. Believe it or not, there have been times when I actually had to shut off my music during this stage so that I might ponder which one, in my opinion, rises to the highest peak.

So after all these years—seven, to be exact—you've seen many Winners and Honorable Mentions come and go. And if you presumed they were judged by anything other than content, or that they were the only worthy ones in the entire stack, you were badly mistaken. I apologize for not clearing this up a long, long time ago.

In the future, I'll post the First Round and Second Round Finalists on the website as soon as they're available. I can't give a specific date—it'll depend on the amount of entries and my schedule—but when I post, I'll announce it on Twitter. If you don't have a Twitter account, and don't plan to open one, occasionally stop by the Contest Café after the contest ends. The Winner and Honorable Mentions will continue to be announced here in The VERB.

A special congrats to our Winner, Derek Cockey! You'll notice his entry is, shall we say, grittier than previous ones, but hey, life isn't always pretty. You may read "Lucky Day," and my Opinion of it, on Page 7 of this issue. 

Oh, and I went ahead and posted the entire results for the Silent Character Contest. A round of applause for all the entrants! Your imaginations did some wonderful things with a mirror. I hope our new contest sparks as much literary stimulation.

Elizabeth Guy
Editor

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This issue 
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PANDORA
Internet Radio
(1990s rock)