Should I Enter a Book Competition?

From time to time my inbox fills up with calls to entry for various book awards. I always have mixed feelings about entering. While winning an award is certainly a good thing, there is also a downside.

PROs

I’ve entered competitions in the past and some of my books, such as Billy the Kid and the Lincoln County War,  have won awards. I’m not going to lie to you. There’s nothing quite like the euphoria of knowing that your book beat out dozens, if not hundreds, of other entries. Awards are also a nice marking tool. There’s nothing quite like having that award sticker proudly displayed on your book cover. In fact, I’ve included one of mine. Not to brag, but to point out the downside to winning a book award.

CONS

I won the award in 2007. By 2010 my book looked dated. 

The other big drawback is the cost. The last time I tried to enter a book competition the early bird entry fee was $90. They also wanted four printed copies of the book. By the time I added in the cost of the books, and my best guestimate for the postage, I realized I’d be spending at least $120, if not more. Just to enter one title, in one category. If I wanted to enter a second category the cost would double. Competitions aren’t without risk. There is no guarantee your book will win. As I thought it over I realized I’d be better off spending that $120 dollars on advertising my book. 

So, is entering a book award competition a good idea? You’ll have to decide for yourself. If you have the inclination, and the budget, then go for it. Who knows? Your book could be a winner. However, if you don’t have the money, or if you feel unsure, then don’t. While it’s nice to win an award, it’s no guarantee that you’ll sell more books. 

Gayle Martin

Knowing When to Quit, Part Two


© CanStockPhoto/rustyphil

In my earlier post, Knowing When to Quit, Part One, I talked about redundancy. This time I’ll discuss another way to overwork a story. Creating over the top scenarios or plot lines which don’t connect well with the earlier story. This can be especially problematic when you’re writing a series. There simply comes a point when your story, even if it’s a series, has to end. Otherwise it may become absurd or even bizarre.

I’ll use an example familiar to most of us. Star Trek.

I grew up watching the original Star Trek. The characters, human and alien, were compelling and believable; so much so that they became iconic. However, by the third season, the writers seemed to be running out of ideas. The ridiculous storylines in some of the later episodes hurt the integrity of the series. NBC then cancelled the show. Afterward it went into syndication where its following grew.

The movies started ten years later. The original characters were back. However, they were older and they’d changed over time. This kept them interesting. The final original cast film, Star Trek The Undiscovered Country, completed their storyline with a well thought out ending. In the meantime, three new television series, Star Trek the Next Generation, Deep Space Nine and Voyager, created a plethora of interesting new characters with plenty of potential for exciting new stories. They were followed by a series of movies featuring the Next Generation cast.

Sadly, it was all lost for me with Star Trek Enterprise, and the most recent movie series. Enterprise, the fifth TV serieswas a prequel. And prequels, regardless of the genre, can be problematic. To me, it was lackluster, and I soon lost interest. The movie series, also prequels, featured younger versions of the original characters. They too were disappointing. The stories took place in a parallel universe, so all of the interesting back-stories established in the original NBC TV series were gone. I found it way too confusing, and it certainly wasn’t the Star Trek I’d known and loved for decades. Sadly, the last movie series ended after the untimely death of one of the actors.

This is what happens when you run out of ideas. You lose the integrity of your story, and you risk losing your following as well. As storytellers, the two hardest words for us to write  are, “The End,” but write them we must, as all stories must end. Otherwise, in the words on my college painting professor, you really do turn your work into mud.


Gayle Martin