Writing | My Writers of the Future Experience
Introduction
The Writers of the Future award ceremony took place early this spring. I had the opportunity to attend, though I wasn’t one of the finalists, and greatly enjoyed the time I had there. It was wonderful to see the gratitude and excitement on the faces of those talented enough to receive first, second, and third-place awards for their hard work and dedication to the art of storytelling.
It was also encouraging to encounter writers in attendance who were impressed with an accomplishment I’d always thought of as just okay. Some of them told me that they had been entering for years and had never received so much as an honorable mention. Then, the speaker at the award ceremony told the audience that as of late, an honorable mention from Writers of the Future is enough to at least catch the eye of agents, editors, and publishers.
So perhaps my first honorable mention (received a few years ago) isn’t something I should be dismissing as readily as I have. I will always try to better myself and achieve greatness, of course, but perhaps I’ve been too hard on myself regarding past accomplishments. Moreover, perhaps I haven’t been encouraging enough to other writers who are trying to reach the same goal I am.
So, in this post, I’ll talk about my journey as a writer so far, my accomplishments, my failures, and my goals. I'll also mention the end result of my latest submission to the Writers of the Future competition (my first submission since receiving that honorable mention years ago).
Growing Up
Early Years of Writing
I can remember writing stupid short stories on unlined paper at an age as young as five. The letters were huge and they tipped, dipped, and turned across the page; I’m certain that reading them was a nightmare. Still, my family members read the works and offered notes of encouragement. Eventually, I graduated from stapling sheets of printer paper together and began to fill composition books with my handwritten adventures (which typically followed fictional versions of myself and my friends).
I recall one particular series, Heroes of the Playground, which followed a kid named Sork (ugh) and his friends (whose names I don’t remember) as they defended their elementary school and the planet from horrifying demons (which I drew… poorly).
There are a few specific instances of support I can recall during this time in my life. I distinctly remember my grandmother reading one of my longer Heroes of the Playground stories in her car while she waited for my soccer game to start. She called me creative and told me she was particularly impressed by my vocabulary, especially when it came to not using the word “said” every time someone spoke. That has always stuck with me, and even today I try to avoid repeating any word more than necessary.
I also remember times of discouragement. Often (and interestingly) this discouragement came from teachers. Sometimes my stories were too dark, sometimes they weren’t Christian enough, and sometimes I wasn’t even allowed to submit something. One moment stands out among the rest. I was in third grade and had found out that there was a writing competition hosted locally… after the competition was over. My classmates had participated, but it had never been brought to my attention. I went to my teacher, rightfully upset, and asked why I hadn’t been invited to participate in the competition.
She told me that she hadn’t thought I’d be interested, then she told me that she didn’t want me writing stories about my classmates, and finally she said that she didn’t think it would be fair to the other kids. Each time, I had a rebuttal. I insisted she knew I loved writing, that I was more than capable of coming up with stories that didn’t involve the kids I disliked, and even called foul on the suggestion that it would have been unfair to the other kids. Would she have held back the most mathematically-inclined student from an arithmetic competition (which certainly would not have been me)?
The Snarky Young Writer
As I grew older, I became more sarcastic and conniving. My writing became more subtle, yet more aggressive. This was especially true of works which aimed to drop hints to the people I knew would be reading them. Some teachers caught on and dropped letter grades from my writing. My paper on Harry Potter's correlations with biblical Christianity was dropped from an A to a B because the teacher thought Harry Potter was evil. I knew, of course, that she thought that; my goal was to make a point, and I did.
My final short story that was due for my senior-year composition course was a direct attack on my composition teacher, who was way out of her depth and wildly unqualified. The story was about an alien becoming an English teacher. It blatantly struggled with teaching a class about grammar despite lacking an understanding of the language. She didn’t catch on to the story. I received an A+ and she read the story out loud to the class, among a few others.
The Overlord Saga
I don’t know how many stories I’ve written. I don’t know how many words have been handwritten or typed only to end up burned, tossed, or deleted. There must be millions of paragraphs in my past that I wrote, rewrote, edited, and rewrote again only to discard a year or two down the road. One of the most significant examples of this is a series I called The Overlord Saga.
When I was about seventeen, I thought that The Overlord Saga was going to be my big break. It was about an underground organization that acquired new recruits by seeking out young people who were destined for a life in prison. The main character, Alec Marshall, had committed aggravated assault when an overlord approached him. The way Alec saw it (and the way most recruits saw it--his choice was to either go to trial or be rescued and join this secret organization.
The concept was great. Actually, I still like it! I had numerous ideas, including Alec’s former friend being one of the people who tries to take him down, though both of them wear masks which prevent them from realizing the other’s identity. My execution, however, was horrendous. Yet I wrote four massive books in this series… books which never saw the light of day. There were almost two million words across those books, and only a few close friends and family members read them. One day I simply destroyed the work in disgust. I've no idea if there are any backups floating around in the cloud, but I highly doubt it.
Writers of the Future
Rejection
I spent years trying my best to find a contest that seemed worth entering. One day, through a means that I do not recall, I found Writers of the Future: a world-renowned science fiction/fantasy competition. It had an excellent prize, but the most wonderful part of the competition was its recognition. Because it was (and is) held in such high regard, a query in which the submitter is referred to as a “Writers of the Future Award Winner” is guaranteed to receive more than just a quick glance and a rejection.
So I started submitting to the contest. I wrote unique short stories for it, typically, but sometimes I lazily took excerpts from my larger projects and sent them in. I submitted to the contest once or twice a year for about two years. Each time I submitted, my submission fell flat on its face. I didn't give up. I could feel myself getting better. My prose was improving, my ideas were becoming more interesting, and I had started to become more confident in spite of the rejections.
Edwin
Finally, I got an idea: I was going to write a spin-off of The Overlord Saga. I decided to tell the prequel story of a character named Edwin, who worked as a chemist for the overlords. His story was especially tragic because his wife was heavily handicapped, which is why he worked for the organization; so long as he lent his expertise to the overlords, they would supply him with whatever he desired for his research into his wife’s illness.
The story focused less on the science and more on the inner turmoil, depression, and difficulty of being in love with someone who cannot speak, move, or return the affections given.
A few months after submitting Edwin, while riding on a train back to Kansas City, I got an email notification. My story, Edwin, had received an honorable mention. I was ecstatic. Overjoyed and overcome with emotion, I barely held back my tears and excitement for the remainder of the train ride.
And then…
I stopped submitting to the contest.
How I Ruined My Life and The Imperfect Cycle
After receiving my honorable mention, I just stopped submitting to the contest. I can’t pinpoint exactly why. Part of me, I’m sure, just figured I’d best quit while I was ahead. There was a good chance I would never get another award. How would I feel if I submitted again and didn’t place or at least receive a second honorable mention?
In the meantime, I wrote a novel called How I Ruined My Life. At the time, it was definitely my best work. It was raw, emotional, and honest. Now, looking back at it, it’s really not great. I wasn’t as honest as I could have been, I wasn’t as mature as I should have been, and my themes were unclear at best. The most common complaint I've received about the story is that everyone hates the main character. The point of the story, of course, is that the main character sucks. However, I did not convey that clearly enough, so the purpose fell flat. It just looks like I'm a mediocre writer who lacks insight and the ability to self-reflect.
After How I Ruined My Life, I started working on The Imperfect Cycle, a futuristic, post-apocalyptic tale about a planet on its last legs. As the world falls apart around them, humans are still fighting over who gets to rule over the wasteland. They imprison, harm, and kill one another. Individuals with imperfections are enslaved and abused. I am continuing to focus on this story and am currently on my third rewrite of the first book (which is very nearly finished).
Revisiting Writers of the Future in 2019
I can’t say for sure what prompted me to submit another story to the Writers of the Future competition, this year. Sometime in January, I just felt like writing a short story. After I wrote it, I knew where to send it: Writers of the Future. They’d be the real judge of the story’s worth. So, for the first time since receiving an honorable mention in 2014, I submitted a short story to Writers of the Future.
And, early in the morning on July 23rd, I got another email notification with that familiar message: Congratulations, Your Story Has Received an Honorable Mention.
There it is: the kick in the pants that I needed. I’ve received a second honorable mention shortly after having just heard that honorable mentions are highly regarded by publishers and agents. Of course, they aren’t all it takes. You can’t just submit your worst work and tack on your honorable mention(s) as if they're enough to get your book on an agent’s radar. But they help, and they help a lot.
Advice to Other Writers
Even though I started young, I have never considered myself a great writer. I’m still not professionally published and my currently self-published book (and only published book) barely brings in enough money to cover a coffee once a week or so. I am constantly improving as a writer, and hope to continue to improve as time goes on. Someday, perhaps, I’ll look back on one of my works and be more proud than ashamed to call it mine. Even How I Ruined My Life has joined the ranks of former writings I detest (somewhere in the book, I actually used the phrase trying to try and… what’s that about? Really?).
So this is my advice: keep writing. I know every writer gives this advice, but hear me out. Your first million words are going to suck. Your second million words are going to suck a little less. Just keep writing and keep improving. Don’t worry about how crappy your writing is and try to avoid thinking that what you’re working on right now is going to get published. It probably won’t. You probably won’t want to get it published by the time the work is finished. If you do like your book at the end of it all, great! But be prepared to hate it, toss it, and start over.
What’s Next for Me?
Chainbreaker
For almost two… no, FOUR years, I’ve been working on my first entry in my Imperfect series. It has been a painstaking process filled with growth, change, and constant shifts. This is a story I have been passionate about for an extensive period of time, yet I’ve never been able to get it right. Hopefully, the current iteration (entitled Chainbreaker) will be the one that finally sees the light of day. I’ve had several people I trust read and review the first fifty pages, which received glowing and constructive feedback. I am certain that when I finally put this story together and start sending it off, I will do so with confidence.
How I Ruined My Life
How I Ruined My Life may not be my best prose and my approach may have been terrible, but I would still like to revisit the overarching concept. Some things will need to change, certainly. The main character is meant to be terrible, but I did not broach that very well at all. My viewpoint seemed to support the main character’s actions rather than condemn them. In addition, the main character is difficult for the average reader to relate to; he was homeschooled, religious, and his perspective on matters like sex often came across as inconsistent. When, in the future, I rewrite the story, it will be vastly different from the original in an attempt to bring clarity to my purpose for writing the book.
The Ansleigh Arc
My most recent entry to Writers of the Future, which received the second honorable mention, is going to be released as an eBook for Amazon Kindle. It will be free for Kindle Unlimited members. For non-members, I’ll make the cost as low as possible (about a dollar). It’s a short story, since that’s what the contest calls for, so I’m not going to make a full-priced book and I do not intend to do a physical release.
I have no intention of re-entering the same short story to the contest, so I’ve no qualms about publishing The Ansleigh Arc and attaching my name to it. Until the results were published, I was not permitted to release the title, publish the work, or even reveal an excerpt from it.
Conclusion
Phew, this was a long one, but I’m glad I got it out there. I’m sorry I’ve been away for a few months; things have been really crazy, but I am hoping that I will soon be back into the swing of writing. I’ve got a vacation coming up and will be spending three weeks in Australia, so I’m sure I’ll have a lot to write about after that trip. Then, when I come back, I am hoping to start looking into some ways to earn money outside of my job so I can escape. Being free of this workplace will give me the rest and time I require to start flexing my creative muscles, again.