Song of the Day: Through the Iris by 10 Years
Recently, I had a friend and fellow chapter mate ask me what was the one thing that disappointed me the most about writing contests. It didn’t take me long to come up with an answer.
It isn’t low scores, sometimes ridiculously so. It isn’t mean, hurtful and obviously drug-induced, misdirected comments. It isn’t when the judge doesn’t adequately explain why she marked me with an average score (though that runs a very, very close second and this judge needs a good flogging).
No, my biggest gripe is when the judge gives me a perfect or near perfect score and doesn’t explain why. Funny, I know.
Don’t get me wrong. It tickles me pink when a judge says they love my book. I get chills when a writing peer wants to read the rest NOW and asks when will it be released, she wants to buy it. I’m grinning like the Cheshire cat when a judge tells me how red hot, hot, hot my heroes are. That’s super! I’m not just 
passing fancy. I’m writing something that moves someone else — besides me.
But I’d also like to know what I’m doing right. I’m disappointed when my manuscript with high or perfect score comes back with no comments on the pages. I want to know what worked. Did that insinuating banter between the hero and heroine make the judge want to scream ‘kiss her already’? How about the death scene? Was there enough emotion that made their heart ache? Is the descriptions and scenery setting the mood? Did they love to hate my villains? How about that plot? Did they itch to find out more? A touch, a sentence, one piece of dialogue can show and say so much. Pinpoint where and when I’ve succeeded in earning praise. Otherwise, as much as I would kiss your feet for giving me your high scores and adoration, I’ve learned little.
I challenge everyone who volunteers as a judge to give that extra bit of time and talent and help the author identify what they do right. Not just ‘you’ve done a wonderful job with descriptions’ or ‘I love your hero’. Tell the author why or show them in the text when they have rung your bell.
What do you think? I’d love to hear from you.
Jenn (is this you?),
Other than the five contests I’ve just recently entered (for which I do not yet have any results), I’ve entered a total of five previous contests. Like everyone else, my scores have been all over the place.
But ONE judge in ONE of those contests (a chapter in the deep South) gave me a PERFECT score! I forget (now) what the maximum was, but it was around 230 points. Whatever the number, I got ALL the available points from this judge! Not a single point subtracted for a single misdemeanor!
I wanted to rush down to [that state] and give that judge a big hug. But, as in your case (above) hardly any feedback beyond the scores. I did send — thru the contest coordinator — a thank you note, and I asked that anonymous judge to identify herself so I could thank her more directly (and possibly ‘converse’ further with her about my ms.)
Nope, the contest coord. said that judge preferred to remain anonymous.
Hmm. Very puzzling! Here I just wanted to gush over her great literary taste, and she’s holding me at arm’s length. Oh well, That single PERFECT SCORE has, at times, been all that’s keep me writing. Five novels completed in four years. That was my second ms.
Enjoyed your column today.
Jeff
Yes, Jeff, it’s me. The one and only. Not to be confused with any other smokin’ hot blond. (snort)
You gotta love those perfect scores. Somebody, somewhere thinks you rock. Chances are, if one person believes in you, many other will, too. But just as many won’t. So the value is knowing WHY those who think you are the best thing since sliced bread so that maybe you can convert those who don’t.
Still being perfect is pretty great.
Girl, you must have been in my mind when you wrote this.
Well, maybe I was griping to myself that I’d missed a contest I wanted to enter specifically because they are know to give detailed feedback.
I have to agree. Even a perfect score isn’t going to help if you don’t know why or what you did right.Even if it’s nothing more than ‘loved this part’ typed in the text.it helps understand where you’re strong.
My pet-peeve? Funny enough, I always thought it was the harsh comments. Turns out, the harsher the comments, the more I make sure not to make that mistake again.
Hopefully.
Well, Candi, we ARE Cosmic, remember?
One of the reasons we do so well as critique partners is not only do we tell each other when something doesn’t work, we praise each other when it does. I love being able to know when a bit of dialogue or tiny action or even a veiled symbolic reference works.
Thanks, Caj!
Jeff, speaking as a former contest coordinator, I can understand why the judge opted to remain anonymous. I recall one incident where an entrant sent a thank-you note and ask the judge for further feedback or perhaps to form a critique partner relationship. Having judged contests myself, I know it takes an awful lot of time, most of which gets taken from the “my time to write” pool. Anything more than a judge/entrant relationship, and we’re turning in our writing pens for editorial pens. While this may not have been your intention, the judge may have been afraid of that, which could explain the “thanks but no thanks” you received.
Jen, I agree, good scores with no explanation can be a problem. They rank right up there with, “I didn’t like this. Can’t put my finger on why.” If I was going to put aside a published book, I’d at least know why: can’t relate to the characters, plot isn’t moving fast/smoothly enough for me, etc. I don’t have to tell the author that, but I’d at least have a good reason. (I *need* a good reason, if only for myself, if I’m going to shelve something I spent good money on.) But you’re right, we need to know what we’re doing right as much as we need to know what we’re doing wrong. Otherwise how would we know what to do more (or less) of?
Great point about judging vs. editor, Carla. As a judge and contest coordinator, I can see how this could pose a problem. On the opposite side of the coin, I once had a judge contact ME after I sent a thank you offering more help. (She gave me a better than average score.) While I was flattered by the offer, I declined. I as not at a place in my writing career where I felt comfortable forging that relationship.
Thanks, for popping in!
Jen, I enjoyed this:) I’ve had the same thing happen a couple of times. Although you’re ecstatic about the response, you are left wondering about details. I think the first time that happened to me, I was so focused on the positive that I didn’t realize until a little later on, that I wasn’t sure what “sold” them. I’ve come to the conclusion it is often dependent upon the reader. They all have the same score sheets, so sometimes it’s in the eye of the beholder:) Now, if we could just get everyone to see out of the same glasses it would be great! LOL
Loretta Wheeler
Ah, yes, the dreaded subjectivity. Sometimes it really does mean life or death for a manuscript.
I can’t tell you how many polar opposite scores I have received in contests. I once got a 96 out of a 100 and then a 38. Same contest. Same score sheet. It was obvious to me the judge that scored me so low was on crack. LOL!
Thanks, Loretta! Glad you enjoyed my ramblings.
Carla, thanks for that perspective. Yes, that certainly does make sense. She/he might have worried I’d crave more detailed feedback [which I most certainly would have ... ha.]
Still, I think it would have been cool if I could have known the name of that discerning judge who thought the first 25 pps of my 2nd novel ms. was 100% PERFECT!
If was one of those moments where you wonder — for just an instant — if that judge was your own doting mother. Ha.
Great column and comments, Jenn.
Or do people call you Jen?
Sounds the same when I say it.
Jeff
Great post! I’m right there with ya, Jenn. One of the main reasons you enter contests is for the feedback. Very frustrating when you have nothing to work with.
And it’s no secret what your hot, hot heros do to me. LOL Especially one devilishly handsome pirate named
B L A D E…
Oh I know what Blade does to you, Missy. It is the ultimate compliment. I love to hear you giggle each time his name is spoken.
Thanks for your undying support!