I was going to title this ‘My competition addiction’ - which is probably overstating it, as it’s not EXACTLY an addiction quite as much as Lindt 85% dark chocolate for me right now.

But quite seriously, competitions have been enormously motivating to me, as an incentive to write, to keep writing, and to write something new.

Somehow, competitions are less scary than submitting a work to a publisher. It’s the crowd effect - subconsciously, I know that if my manuscript is really terrible, it won’t stand out as such. It’ll just sink back into the swirl of other well-intentioned-but-not-quite-right attempts.

Whereas submitting work to a publisher feels like going out on a lonely, possibly dangerous limb. And you could fall in the process, and possibly break your dignity.

Anyway, what I’m saying is that I’m a coward. (Not always. But often.) And competitions are a low-risk way to test the water with a manuscript, just gently. Before you fall entirely down the rabbit bole of imagining it as a published book. (Is that just me?)

So I’ve recently entered:

CYA, with a poetic sort of non fiction picture book manuscript, with an end line that literally has been kicking around in my head for the last seven or eight years
CYA, with a crazy and possibly completely bonkers rhyming picture book manuscript
Shire Competition, with the same non fiction picture book, slightly tweaked
Shire Competition, with a new manuscript (inspired by a word my 4 year old mispronounced, which then morphed into quite a heartfelt story about the relationship between a girl, her nanna and Sydney Harbour.)

The other huge benefit is that some of them provide feedback. Since I started entering it in 2018, I’ve gleaned some valuable insights from the CYA judging sheets in particular. The most valuable being: wow, the merit of a manuscript is hugely subjective. A bit like the merits of extremely dark chocolate. And that’s both fascinating, and heartening.

(Also, at the time of writing this, the Shire Competition is still open! It closes 4 May. )