Back in my larval stages, which occurred in the mid-1960s, my buddy Gary Selby and I were partners in a field day event called the Three-Legged Race. Field Day was how they ended the school year back then, and the late May air was perfumed with fresh-mown grass, gardenias from some lady’s yard across the street, and dill pickles.
Beneath the scraggly elm trees outside our old school, the teachers sold those delicious green mouth puckers as a fund raiser for the next year. After I was grown and became a middle school teacher, I figured out they used the money for a much-needed end-of-the-year happy hour. They also sold cheap homemade Cokes and Dr Peppers (syrup from clear gallon jugs hand-mixed with tap water), weakly flavored snow cones, and popcorn that didn’t sell the year before.
There were other drinks of course. Water in a five-gallon metal water cooler they filled from the hose, and if an elementary student was brave, a Suicide (Coke, Dr Pepper and pickle juice).
All for a dime each. Even the hose water, because it had ice in it.
At the starting line that warm sunny day, Coach tied my right leg to Gary’s left, and we waited for the starting pistol with our arms over the others’ shoulders. At the crack, we were off in fine rhythm, and had a great lead by the time we were five yards from the finish line. That’s when the knot came untied. We crossed as victors, but were disqualified by a sour old math teacher, and I lost the only opportunity to win a ribbon or trophy in my entire twelve years of public school.
I didn’t win a darn thing for the next fifteen years until I took a college course in photography to supplement my assignment as a middle school photo teacher and placed first in the Silhouette category. I had that trophy in my office until it disappeared in a move several years ago.
All this leads back to one day in the 6th grade when I came across a Newberry Medal winning book in the school library titled, Across Five Aprils. I picked up that little novel because of the gold emblem on the cover and absorbed it in one sitting, sparking a lifelong interest in the War of Northern Aggression.
Finishing that, I looked for other books Newberry winners such as Island of the Blue Dolphins. Those titles took me to Robinson Crusoe, Swiss Family Robinson, and ultimately, and this is a weird connection, The Old Man and the Sea and my introduction to Hemingway, which intersected with Steinbeck and eventually Robert Ruark, the writing mentor I never met.
Newberry made me aware of Caldecott Awards, and when I got older, Spur Awards on westerns caught my attention. Hugos, Edgars, the ITW, and Pulitzers to name only a few told me these authors, and ultimately their works, were worth reading.
Awards and the resulting recognition are important personal achievements that can stimulate a flagging author. Writer awards are also a great way to fast track a literary career. They provide professional recognition among your peers, and in my case, are a significant source of personal satisfaction.
Awards are endorsements of your book, and therefore, showcase your talent. They tell the world that the novel you bled for is worthy of the price and can be an incentive for online shoppers to add more titles to their list, or cart. They boost self-confidence and self-esteem, and impress the heck out of potential agents and publishers.
Most of those awards I’m familiar with don’t bring in much in the way of instant cash, and I’m not talking about grant awards which is an entirely different discussion, but recognition among literary peers serves as a springboard to help authors rise above the relative obscurity of thousands of books published each year.
My first novel, The Rock Hole, won the Benjamin Franklin Award, and at the time I had no idea what it meant to a budding career. The folks at Poisoned Pen Press had to explain that one to me (as well as the importance of Starred Reviews from Kirkus, Publishers Weekly, Booklist, and a host of others). I had my sights set on others, too. They served as personal goals and milestones, that kept me plugging along.
At one point confidence sagged, and I seriously wondered what I was doing at the keyboard, but a Spur Award from the Western Writers of America came my way, and then another, along with Will Rogers Medallions, and I was back on the mental track to keep plugging along. Because of renewed enthusiasm, I kept at it and that led to several honors and accolades now hang on the walls of my office. When I have any doubts about my work, and all authors do at some point, I only have to look up and am once again energized.
The addition to mentioning awards on your website, Facebook, Instagram, or any other platform that showcases your work, this recognition can lead to an increase in sales. When marketing, they lift your brand, and help others celebrate your success in this race to be recognized as professional authors.
Mentioning that you’re a finalist on social media can put you on a stage in which others share your anticipation and excitement, maintaining interest and conversation for months at a time as everyone waits for that announcement. Those who might know only your name can be prompted to look up your backlist and elevate sales.
Don’t hesitate to enter these contests, even though winning might a longshot in your own mind. Sure you might lose, but you’ve already taken a whale of a step by getting that novel published, so don’t let self-doubt dissuade you. Some of these have entry fees, so research those you’re interested in. Don’t hesitate to reach out to other established writers to make sure they’re legit. There are a lot of scams out there. Other competitions are financed by grants or outside entities, and only require copies for submission and no fees.
Writing contests are also a source of great satisfaction when you place. Some of you might have heard of the late Pat McManus, the legendary and hysterically funny columnist for Outdoor Life and Field and Stream. He and I became friends decades ago, and he urged me to enter a Humor Category in a contest sponsored by the Outdoor Writers of America. I did, and my column came in first with Pat taking second. He called to congratulate me, and the excitement in his voice was worth as much as the paper certificate I framed.
The honor of winning that contest sparked me to work harder on a writing career.
Even seasoned writers are excited to hear their latest novel has been honored with such recognition. I was humbled to stand in front of a banquet hall full of writers I’d read for years and accept my first Spur. It was a goal and dream come true.
But don’t be disappointed if you don’t make the cut right off the bat, or even after several attempts until you finally succeed. Participation ribbons aren’t part of this business, so just square your shoulders, congratulate those who won, and keep trying.
As I always say in all things. Never give up.
“When I have any doubts about my work, and all authors do at some point, I only have to look up and am once again energized.”
This is so true. I’ve only entered two writing contests (well 3 if you count primary school years when I won an essay contest). The first was about 20 years ago (!!!!) when myself and a writing partner entered a screenplay into a contest (can’t for the life of me remember the contest name now). That screenplay made it to the quarterfinals of the contest. While a bummer to only make it to the quarterfinals, it wasn’t a big deal in the grand scheme of things because I learned through that process that while I love writing, I’m not a big fan of the screenplay format (though I’m sure I could be sufficiently motivated if the right circumstances arose! 😎
But the contest that had the most positive impact on me is winning ACFW’s Genesis contest in 2010 (14 years! Where does the time go?) for historical fiction. The plaque from that award sits in my living room where I can look at it and see what is possible. And it encourages me to keep working at it, little by little.
I have not yet published that work (I’m the cow’s tail) but do still plan to self pub it at some point, though my focus is on another work right now. That was my first and thus far only experience submitting to a traditional publisher–they liked the work but it wasn’t right for them because it wasn’t romance focused (which I never intended it to be).
But your post reminds me it would be good to find one to submit to again. I think the greatest achievement for me in a lifetime would be winning a Spur Award. I may be living in the 2000’s, but my heart forever remains in the American West of the 19th century. Although I don’t want to have to write a Lonesome Dove length tome to do it. LOL!
Writing doesn’t have to be about awards. There’s the satisfaction of completing a manuscript and creating worlds that belong only to you. So many people say they’re going to write a book, or will write one when the kids are grown, or when they get the time, but we’ve already come those (oftentimes mental) stumbling blocks. The awards are secondary, and only important if you want them to be.
It all depends on what the writer wants, and that’s how it should be. Submit away, and I’d love to hear you received a Spur. It was a longtime personal goal that meant a lot to me, and I believe it will to you, too.
Agreed. I’ve always said I write to please myself first. Just the simple satisfaction of writing stories that are of interest to me. Everything else is just icing on the cake.
Back in the 1980’s, I was an elementary education major. One of my classes was children’s literature. As part of the class, the professor gave us a list of Newberry and Caldecott winners, and said we had to read 30 or 35 from each list (maybe more… hard to remember…) and write a short summary of each. That was my favorite class out of all the education classes.
I have grandchildren who love to read, and the Bride and I were discussing just the other day that they need to read those impressive books. They made a difference in our lives, and undoubtedly will impact the grandcritters as well.
As a member of the El Paso Texas Writers League (EPWL), I won many awards. It was always humbling to know I competed against local writers who were as worthy of winning as I, but the year the 2008 Texas Poet Laureate, Larry Thomas judged the poetry entries and awarded my poem Best of Best had me walking on air for weeks. I still smile when I think that even though my efforts were on the local level, they gave me reason to keep writing even if I never made the world stage.
Those real and figurative pats on the back are still important t us all. Remember how it made you feel when you were young? It still has that impact, and maybe more, when it comes from our peers in this chosen profession.
Back in the 1990s, one of my early novels won best mystery/thriller at the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers conf. There I met a group of people who became friends and trusted critique buddies, some of whom I remain in touch with today.
That win led to an agent who didn’t work out. That book never was published. And so it goes.
But I still remember the hot blush as I stepped up to the podium in front of 400+ people to receive the award while my new friends hooted, cheered, and whistled. That carried me past a lot of rejections and setbacks.
I bet psychologists have a lot to say about that feeling, and our need or want to stand in front of others to accept those awards. Thanks for chiming in!
Awards do help, especially since we writers spend so much time alone in our rooms. I was flabbergasted when I was given the Lifetime Achievement Award at Malice Domestic. But like Debbie, it’s carried me through some bad times and helped me focus on the good ones.
What an honor! That’s one for the wall for sure. Those I have are reminders that there are more to come if I keep after it. And I bet we all will.
You know the old saying:
If you don’t ask, the answer is always no…
The same idea applies here:
If you don’t enter, you never win…
Of course I don’t write to win… it’s the cake… getting published is (okay, would be), the icing, and a prize?
That’d be the flower on the edge…
And in my former profession, we had a guest speaker one day that cut through a lot of bull patties for those who are reluctant to admit personal achievements.
“Do a good job, do a good job, and then tell someone!”
These awards are our way of telling someone.
The validation a decent award can give the author of the winning books is not necessarily critical EXCEPT for the first ones – when the writer’s ego is still small and tender.
Giving up Impostor Syndrome isn’t easy – though we all have to do it at some point – but an award can seem to make the subjective – objective.
For the longest time, nice words but otherwise crickets. Then Indies Today 2021 Best Contemporary novel for PURGATORY – and it mattered.
Personally, I think they all matter. My ego was never small and tender, and I’m not sure it was ever an ego thing. As I said in the copy, awards for me are small goals which satisfy and lead to others.
For example, I’ve always coveted the NYT Bestselling Author label. I finally arrived, though in a roundabout way, and have a new personal mountain to climb. I won’t announce this one, and will never print that one if it’s ever achieved, but it’ll be a milestone that friends and family will know about.
Personal goals have always been a roadmap for me, and always will be.
I have yet to win anything, except the privilege of writing, authoring, and encouraging others who are so inclined. It’s surprising to me when I’m asked to speak or write, but I figure, as I’ve been given, I should so give…and that’s been much.
Have a good one!
Thanks, Deb. Goo dluck in your own writing world!
Thank you for this excellent and encouraging article!
It’s my pleasure! Thanks for reading.