Rejection, Goose Bumps & the Long Game

Dealing with your writing being rejected? Or not getting where you hoped it would? Dave Swann, fiction writer, poet, teacher & judge of Hive Young Writers’ Competition 2024/25 has kindly written this piece, knowing how tough it can feel when our writing doesn’t hit the mark we hoped. Grab yourself a cuppa and some biscuits and take in this very helpful and insightful advice…

The best thing about competitions is that they can give writers confidence – and also a sense of how their work compares to the writing of others. The worst thing, though, is that competitions can sap confidence, leaving writers to traipse around the house, ruining their family’s day, moaning: ‘I didn’t get a prize – I’m rubbish!’

I will confess that I continue to enter competitions, even at my advanced age – and, although I still get prizes now and again, I fail quite often, too!

Sometimes a failure or rejection is explained by the story not being very good or well edited. But, other times, it might be a decent story that didn’t interest the judge. Or perhaps the judge was tired or bad-tempered or dopey that day. Or… well, you get the picture. This isn’t a science; it’s an art, or maybe a craft. Subjective views are part and parcel of the deal.

Sometimes a failure or rejection is explained by the story not being very good or well edited. But, other times, it might be a decent story that didn’t interest the judge.

If you’re ruining your family’s day today – please remember: a different judge would have made different decisions!

It isn’t all subjective, though – I really want to emphasise that. The judge of a competition is hoping to read stories that have been well constructed – considering different elements of how stories can work and come together – and which feel like they’ve been fed by decent reading. You’re not competing with the writers who have entered this competition – you’re competing with all the great stories ever written!

Judges are greedy. When they chance upon a story that’s full of good characters, they also want it to have a good storyline, and for it to be emotionally accurate, and full of evocative imagery… but not so packed with evocative imagery that there’s no space left on the page for the reader’s imagination, or for the story to move down its track…

Like I said, judges are greedy! They want stories that feel fresh and original, but which also feel rooted in the age-old virtues and traditions of effective storytelling. For example, I would struggle to award First Place to a piece that is full of good images and phrases but lacking in credible characterisation. Or a story that’s full of complex characters but equally packed with errors in punctuation and syntax. Or a story that is rich in description, but lacking in narrative tension, or prone to melodrama or cliches.

The thing is, once you’ve written a story, you can take the time to polish it. The taking the time to learn how to do the polishing – and it is learnable (with a host of support out there – books, YouTube, classes, considering what you love about other stories) don’t let anyone tell you otherwise – you can elevate an okay story to something – wow!

The truth? Stories rarely plop out fully formed and glowing. Many writers spend hours chiselling away at their work, and attention to detail is much more likely to pay off.

The truth? Stories rarely plop out fully formed and glowing. Many writers spend hours chiselling away at their work, and attention to detail is much more likely to pay off.

And yes – all writers have to learn to deal with rejection. It’s always ouch, but if you’re in it for the right reasons, and for the long game, that too gets easier (I promise!)

For the work I’ve being privileged enough to feedback on for this competition, I’ve tried to communicate my reactions to your stories, and to give informed opinions. I’ve spent years reading and writing, so I know my onions. But that doesn’t mean I’m always right. And it doesn’t mean I’m never wrong or unfair!

Judges aren’t robots, or this one isn’t, anyway. I often worry about my decisions, and wonder whether I’d make different ones tomorrow. At times, when you really like particular pieces, it can feel like you’re judging whether an apple is better than an orange. When it comes down to it, I trust a goosebump. If I’ve felt your story on my skin, I’ll know it’s done its job.

When it comes down to it, I trust a goosebump. If I’ve felt your story on my skin, I’ll know it’s done its job.

But the thing to remember is this: whether you’ve won or not on this particular occasion, this is just one person’s arm and one person’s prickling skin. Just one piece of feedback. What I always tell all my students is to look for patterns in the feedback they receive. One competition failure is insignificant until you put it against other experiences of how your work has been received.

What I’m about to say is hard, I know, for young writers to hear – because most young writers have tons of energy and not much patience. But I want to say it, anyway – when it comes to writing, don’t let a failure knock you off your perch. And don’t get carried away by success – try to play the long game.

Try to play the long game.

In the end, most successful writers have found a process that works for them. Through patience, trial and effort, they’ve learned when to trust their own insights and when to rely upon the feedback of others.

As many of these stories attest, the planet is in a bad way. We’re struggling as a species, and nature is bearing the brunt. Without people like you, the future will be bleak. More than ever before, humanity needs your imagination, humanity and creativity. So write with all your heart. And then go back and edit with all your brain. And keep reading.

So write with all your heart. And then go back and edit with all your brain. And keep reading.

The writer who doesn’t read is like a car without any fuel. It won’t take its passengers anywhere. As Chaucer (or maybe Hippocrates) said: it’s a short life, but a long apprenticeship!

I hope your own life is very long, and that you find ways to serve a shorter apprenticeship than I’ve managed (it’s still going on). Remember: a story carries a goosebump through time and space. If you write something that causes a shiver, you have done your job. Even better if that shiver crosses the skin of an unborn stranger in a faraway land, many years from now!

Os saludo, mis fuertes! I salute you, my brave ones!

Dave Swann, fiction writer, poet, teacher & judge of Hive Young Writers’ Competition 2024/25