Courtesy: Smilesbymegan.com 

GETTING NOTICED 

I'll be honest, I get bitter when my writing doesn't impress.  Last month, I entered a popular picture book contest and my submission didn't garner a prize.  Okay, you can't win them all.  

I don't mean to come across as arrogant, but I believe my writing is prize-worthy.  My critique partners, editors, and agents have complimented my work, so I feel a bit justified in feeling let-down.   

Here's the thing: a good number of winners wrote stories about diversity.  So, this could be a reason why my work was not selected.  I don't feel qualified to write these stories. 

So, now I'm having doubts whether to enter the contest again should the opportunity arise next year.  The competition is fierce and more than 1000 people usually enter.  Diversity has been the chief interest of judges for the last four years.  

On the other hand, I feel that entering contests helps one to meet a deadline, to write concisely (if there's a word limit) to practice revising, and to get your work in front of writers, judges, and agents. 

So, what to do?

A lot of writers will say, write for yourself, not to please others.  And I do just that.  I write what I feel in my heart with the hope it will entertain and inspire children to be brave and kind.  Delivering a subtle message wrapped in lyrical language captures my voice.  I believe that stories that are magical, that flow with rhythm, that connect with alliteration, and that sing with assonance invite people to read them over and over because words sound lovely when read out loud and the messages are comforting.  

I will have to think about entering the picture book contest again.  One of the winning entries (all entries are made public) didn't follow the guidelines and exceeded the word count.  Why have rules at all if some judges are willing to avert their eyes?  How fair is that?  Again, I'm bitter because all winners get to have their stories presented to agents without having to query.  And an unqualified entry got to enjoy the perks.  

But enough complaining.  Sometimes life is not fair.  It's time to mourn the loss and move on.  And I did.  Shortly after the winners had been announced, I found a SCBWI webinar on...drum-roll, please...  "Winning short story contests!"  It gave useful tips on how to compose a winning entry, how to match a story to judges' tastes, and how to find a slew of writing contests.   

One last thought...

Being one of the winners in the picture book contest would have been a terrific opportunity to have my work in front of agents.  In fact, many of the winners find representation through this event.  But for me, it means I have to keep querying.  Which can be exhausting.  Which can feel futile.  Giving up is not an option.  I want my writing to impress an agent.  To receive a little validation.  To be appreciated.  I'd love to reach an audience.  Writing about diversity is important topic, but magical, lyrical stories are worthy of prizes and they should be noticed, too.   

À la prochaine!

"It is a great thing when your work is appreciated." Jacqueline Fernandez, Sri Lankan actress 

WHY CATS?   

I confess I love cats.

This has not always been the case.  

As a youngster and even as a young adult, I never had the occasion to be around cats.  However, this situation changed when my six-year-old daughter wanted a pet she could hug.  Beta fish didn't pass the test.  So we adopted a cat we called Ollie...except we knew very little about cats.  Luckily, cats pretty much take care of themselves.  Mostly, all they need is food and water.  Kind of like taking care of a cactus, but softer.  

Ozzie

Ollie was a bit persnickety (I discovered much later that ALL cats are persnickety).  He would paw out kibbles from his food bowl one at a time and eat them.  During the years we cared for Ollie, I never knew cats liked wide bowls because their whiskers are very sensitive.  So, Ollie adapted to the small food bowl and we got used to his odd-eating habit. 

Seven years later, Ollie passed away.  My daughter had moved away to go to college and I missed having a furry companion. I visited the Humane Society and found young cat named Ozzie.  He was a sweet tabby, but too curious for his own good.  When he was about seven-years-old, he ventured out a door that was accidently left ajar and he took the opportunity to explore the great outdoors. Not the smartest decision.

The temperatures were below freezing.  And worse, Ozzie didn't have claws.  His chances of survival were slim.  Two weeks passed, and Ozzie never came home.  He must have been so scared, cold, and hungry, trying to stay warm and trying to find water and food on the frozen ground.  My husband and I searched the neighborhood daily, put notices on lampposts, and posted about his disappearance online.  We hoped someone had found him, but no one had taken him to the Humane Society when we stopped by.   

Lizzie

I ached for another cat.  On the way home from the shelter, we dropped by Pet Smart, just to take a look.  Kittens would cheer me up.  When we saw a black and white tuxedo cat named Abby, the same name as our daughter, we adopted her on the spot (and changed her name to Lizzie). She became a lap cat and her rumbling purrs and affection helped me deal with the loss of Ozzie....who by the way, who had been found by a neighbor two weeks later and less than a mile away, unharmed and hungry. 

So, I take care of two indoor cats as well as a stray cat called Putty.  He's a fussy feline.  He wants wet food in a clean bowl.  Putty has the habit of disappearing for months and then showing up at our back door for food and medical attention when he gets hurt.  I could never turn him away.  He's a tough kitty who's been coming around for over ten years and I feel honored I've gained his trust. 

So how did I get so attached to these fur babies?  What is it about cats?  For me, it's Ozzie's fanned whiskers when he enjoys getting brushed, Lizzie's purring when she gets a chin rub, Putty's gruff meow when he gets his food bowl filled.  It's the way they show affection with playful swats, a tail tap, or a head bump.  It's their royal attitude and carriage, their dignified presence.  It's the way they calm me if I've had a bad day or if I get writer's block.    

When I was young, I would have never thought that cats would be part of my life.  Now, I can't imagine my life without them.  They have touched me with their personalities, persistence, and perseverance.  My love of cats shows up in my stories:  a tabby that goes missing, or a stray who gets care when he's injured, or a housecat that soothes a broken heart.  Through my writing, I can show others the awesomeness of cats.  Even as I write this blog, Lizzie is curled in my lap, inviting me to write another story.  No doubt a story about a cat.  I have a feline purrhaps, I will.  

  

À la prochaine!