How to W(h)in(e)

Jennifer Love Hewitt, the volume of complaining from allegedly grown folks is astounding. I’m especially intrigued by the idea that making the complaint rhyme makes it a poem instead of a thinly-veiled complaint, like there’s a prize for rhyming whining.

That’s what it is: whining. I’m probably going to ruffle a whole lot of feathers with this: repeating same behavior and expecting different results is the textbook definition of insanity. It seems pretty clear to me that, regardless of the rhyme scheme and metre, a “poem” trashing the editorial team, accusing them of playing favorites, and lamenting about seeing the same names win challenges again and again will never be rewarded, for obvious reasons (see Donald Trunp’s efforts at winning a Nobel Peace Prize for comprehension of this alarmingly simple truth).

Here’s an idea that I’m sure will go over like the Hindenburg: maybe those “same names” are better writers than the average Vocal+ member. Maybe some writers are growing and challenging themselves, trying new things, branching out. Maybe counting on contest wins as guaranteed income is a bad idea out of the gate. To quote my screenwriting professor, “you can make a killing, but you can’t make a living.” Gospel truth in any subjective field.

I’m relatively new here, and I’ve placed and shown in a handful of challenges, which should, by itself, discredit this “same names” complaining that I see so much of. I also see that Vocal has a lot of volunteer auditors who come behind the curation team, asserting that a dozen sentimentality praises have more merit than in-depth discussions about literature, writing, and craft, all while throwing “not you” when the behavior is called into question. If you want to read my comment threads for the contents, that’s great; it’s community engagement. If you’re doing it to audit me, my attitude does a 180, and I’m wicked pissed. Having been on this platform longer than I have does not make anyone an authority I have to answer to, and I flatly resent it.

Back to the “same names” nonsense that’s demonstrably untrue: maybe people who win challenges work harder. I see a lot of people racing to complete each challenge as soon as new ones are posted, without even taking time to let the prompt resonate. Faster is not better, and, frankly, the flaws in this approach are so glaringly obvious that I won’t delineate them. Clearly, that approach doesn’t work.

What do I do? I read more than the blurb, then I look at the existing entries. I don’t ask myself how to better do what’s already been done; that’s not my style. I look for what’s missing, what hasn’t been done, because I know how hard it is to rise from a ginormous slush pile. Once something hits the slush pile, it stays there, and nothing in the slush pile will ever win because of the law of averages.

What’s a slush pile? It’s a huge assemblage of submissions that are all basically alike. For example, coffee and tea poems went in the slush pile for the small heat haiku challenge. The sheer volume of them prohibited any from winning. Internalize this fact: no matter how good my entry is, if it hits the slush pile, it will not win.

Learn how to think like an editor who exists in the real world, not the fantasy scenario in your head where all these people do is judge contests. Start looking at them as human beings or even readers who deserve your respect, simply because they exist. We need them far more than they will ever need any of us. If you honestly believe that being disrespectful will be rewarded, you may want to examine your worldview and make some realistic adjustments. Until then, please give the rest of us a break from the whining about not winning until you have a real subject or message: “I should win” is not a message. I’m probably going to cleanse my subscriptions soon if the goddamn whining doesn’t stop. There are thousands here. Twenty-five entries per challenge get recognized, so up your game if you want to win.

I get the feeling that formal training is more scarce than hen’s teeth here. Is formal training necessary? No, but training is. Learn the science of language and the system of punctuation. They’re quite beautiful in and of themselves, and thought should be given to them in the editing stage, which isn’t the same as revision. I’m not here to pander to anyone’s feelings, and I’m not going to pretend that standards don’t exist or that mine aren’t high. I’ve done the work, and I continue to do the work. Consulting a rhyme dictionary is NOT doing the work. Reading criticism is, and learning the different literary theories is essential, as without a basic working knowledge there, you’re not qualified to judge the merits of literature beyond whether or not you like it, which is irrelevant. Case in point: I hate, loathe, despise, and detest Sir Philip Sidney’s Astrophil and Stella. However, that doesn’t affect its status as a masterpiece of English poetry, doesn’t weigh in on why it’s a great poem. It stands on its formal merits, and my opinion of it is completely irrelevant to everyone except me. I can’t bring any formal charges against this poem aside from “I don’t like it.” Here’s where I’m going to get very unpopular very quickly: the opinions of your uneducated fans carry no weight and prove nothing about whether or not the work is formally good; they’re opinions that aren’t based on any critical theory whatsoever. I’ve seen few here who appear to have formulated their own literary theory, which is an essential part of growth as a reader and as a writer. You can’t simultaneously play to a band of theoryless fans and to critics; they value different things, and fan likes are simply that, fan likes; they’re proof of popularity, not literary merit. There’s a reason Rotten Tomatoes has critic reviews and audience reviews. It applies everywhere. If you’re not thinking about your audience, that’s a problem all by itself.

I’ll die on this hill if necessary. Craft is what the writer does that the reader doesn’t see, unless it’s po-mo, which is its own kettle of fish and more difficult than most realize, as the formalist test is the foundation of all criticism, including postmodernism, but that’s a whole ‘nother conversation.

I’m sure a lot of people are foaming at the mouth about what I’ve said here, and I’m of the opinion that a response like that indicates that the ego is more important than the work. I disagree. It’s like Hemingway said to Fitzgerald: “Forget your personal tragedy. We are all bitched from the start.”