How Can Authors Submit Entries To The Halloween Writing Contest 2023?

It’s funny you should ask about contests; I’ve been poking around at them for a couple years now, mostly for fun. Honestly, the obvious place to start is just by looking at the big magazines that run regular competitions—'Clarkesworld', 'The Paris Review', sometimes 'Glimmer Train' though I think they’re on hiatus again? Those are the heavy hitters, and winning one of those can be a real career bump. But the submission fees add up, which always gives me pause. I’ve had better luck, emotionally at least, with smaller, themed contests run by indie presses or even literary festivals. They often have more specific prompts, which can actually kickstart a story you wouldn’t have written otherwise. Lately, I’ve been leaning toward genre-specific outlets. If you’re into speculative fiction, the 'Writer’s Digest' annual competition is a classic, but also check out 'Lightspeed’s' flash fiction contests or 'Analog’s' yearly student one. The entry requirements are usually super clear on their websites—just make sure you follow their formatting to the letter. I got disqualified once for using the wrong font, which felt incredibly petty at the time, but hey, rules are rules. A good trick is to set up a simple spreadsheet: contest name, deadline, fee, word count, theme. It keeps the chaos somewhat manageable. Don’t sleep on university literary journals either, even if you’re not a student; many have open contests with pretty decent judges. The prize money might be smaller, but the prestige in certain circles is real. The real struggle for me is timing—I’ll see a contest, get excited, then realize the deadline is next week and my draft is nowhere near ready. So my unsolicited advice is to find a few with deadlines a few months out and actually work backward from there. It’s less about the single big win and more about building a rhythm of finishing and submitting pieces, which in itself is a kind of victory.

Okay, look—contests are a numbers game. Every writer I know with contest success just keeps a spreadsheet. Find twenty that fit your genre and deadlines that work, then submit to all of them. Don’t overthink the ‘perfect fit.’ Half the judging is subjective anyway. I use Submission Grinder to track openings, but honestly, following a few publishers and writing orgs on Twitter gives you the fastest heads-up. The ‘easy’ part is just being organized; set aside one Sunday a month to update your list and send stuff out. You miss every shot you don’t take, and some of these have tiny entry fees that are worth the lottery ticket. My only hard rule: never submit something you just finished last week. Let it sit, edit it once more, then send it off. Rushed entries always read rushed.

I’ve submitted my own work to 'Chilling Tales for Dark Nights' and can share some insights. They do accept submissions, but their guidelines are specific—they lean toward high-quality, original horror stories with a strong atmosphere and chilling payoff. My advice is to read their current stories to get a feel for their style. They prefer tales that are unsettling rather than just gory, with a focus on psychological dread or supernatural twists. Their submission process is straightforward, usually through their website, but they’re selective. I’ve had friends get rejected because their stories didn’t match the tone CTFDN looks for. If you’re serious about submitting, polish your work meticulously. They appreciate tight pacing and a memorable ending. Also, keep an eye on their open submission periods; they don’t accept year-round.

Consider the reader-judges. Some awards use panels of avid readers or librarians. Your submission isn't just to an organization; it's to a person with limited time. Your synopsis needs to hook them immediately. The process is mechanical, but the materials you provide need to sing. That first page of the manuscript you upload? It has to be flawless. They might only read the first chapter before deciding to continue or not. So while you're focused on filling out address fields, never forget that a human on the other end is making a snap judgment about your year's of work.

I'm skeptical of most free contests, honestly. Too many feel like data collection or anthology-mill schemes, where you 'win' a spot in a pricey collection you have to buy. But I found one exception last year: 'The First Chapters Prize' from The London Library. No fee, open internationally, decent prize money and mentoring. I entered on a whim, didn't win, but the feedback was genuinely thoughtful—more than I got from some paid submissions. The key is vetting: if it's run by a legit literary journal, university creative writing department, or a major publisher's imprint, it's usually okay. Random websites promising 'exposure'? Run. WordHunt (formerly Scribophile's) quarterly contests are another solid free option. You need to critique others' work to earn karma points to enter, which keeps the community serious. The prizes are small but real, and the feedback you get during the process is the real value. Helped me tighten a short story that later got published elsewhere. I'd take that over a hundred no-feedback rejections from random places.

Not to be overly cynical, but the term 'best' depends entirely on what you're writing and what you're after. The 'big' ones like the Bridport Prize or the Bath Novel Award get all the press, and they're fantastic for the prestige if you win, but the entry fees add up. I've wasted money on contests that promised exposure but just felt like cash grabs for the organizers. What I've found more useful are the ones attached to specific genres or independent presses. Things like the Cheshire Prize for Literature if you're in the UK, or contests run by journals like 'Glimmer Train' (though they're on hiatus, similar ones pop up). They have smaller pools, so your work might actually get a closer read. The real prize is often publication and a bit of cash, which is more tangible for a debut than vague 'industry recognition.' My advice is to skip the ones that charge fifty bucks and offer a trophy. Look for contests where the prize includes a publishing contract or agent introduction. That's the golden ticket when you're starting out.

You're asking the right question—this is how I got my first piece published, actually. The first place I'd recommend is a bit obvious but reliable: 'Reedsy' has a frequently updated contest page that filters for no-fee options. I check it maybe once a month. Their blog also often does roundups for specific genres, which saves a ton of scrolling time. Beyond that, university writing department websites are a goldmine people forget. Even if you're not a student, many MFA programs list competitions that are open to the public, and they tend to be legitimate, often connected to literary journals. I've submitted to a few from the University of New Orleans' 'Press 53' page, for instance. The key is to treat the search like a part-time job; bookmark a few trusted hubs instead of googling 'free contest' every time, which just leads to sketchy sites wanting your data. One more tip—follow the magazines you admire on Twitter or Mastodon. Editors often announce their own open submission periods or contest extensions there before it hits the main aggregators. I snagged a last-minute slot for the 'Bridport Prize' flash fiction category that way, though some of their contests do have fees so you have to read carefully.

The October Art Challenge is one of those yearly traditions I look forward to like a kid waiting for Halloween candy! It’s a month-long creative marathon where artists pick a theme or prompt list (often shared on social media platforms like Instagram or Twitter) and create a piece of art every day. Some popular ones include 'Inktober' for ink drawings or 'Drawtober' for broader themes. To join, first, hunt down the official prompt list—many artists and communities release their own versions, so pick one that sparks your imagination. I usually bookmark a few favorites and mix and match prompts if I’m feeling adventurous. Then, it’s all about consistency: sketch, paint, or even dabble in digital art daily, share your work with hashtags like #OctoberArtChallenge2024, and cheer on others. The camaraderie is half the fun! Last year, I stumbled into a cozy Discord server where we traded WIPs and gushed over each other’s styles—highly recommend finding your tribe.

It’s not really the grand prize that makes the biggest difference. Placing—even as a finalist or getting an honorable mention—lets you add a line to your bio, a legit credential. It’s a stamp of external validation that can tip the scales when you’re cold-querying agents. ‘My short story was a finalist for such-and-such prize’ just sounds better than ‘I’m an aspiring writer.’ It shows someone besides your mom thought the work had merit. Another overlooked aspect is the forced deadline. I’ve entered contests with themes or word counts I’d never tackle otherwise. Having that constraint made me produce something new, and often, that piece became the start of something bigger. The contest entry fee being zero means there’s zero financial risk, so it’s pure discipline practice. What’s more, some of these competitions are judged by editors or established authors. Even if you don’t win, your work might cross their desk. That’s exposure you can’t buy. I once got a personalized rejection from a judge with a couple of lines of feedback—tiny, but it meant more than any form letter from a magazine submission.

I’ve been digging into writing communities for years, and Bishop Library’s contests are a hidden gem for new authors. They run seasonal competitions, usually themed around genres like fantasy, mystery, or slice-of-life, which is perfect for testing your creative limits. What stands out is their feedback system—judges aren’t just faceless names; they often include local published authors who give detailed critiques. I submitted a short story last winter and got notes that totally reshaped my revision process. The prizes aren’t huge cash sums, but winning includes mentorship sessions and featured spots in their annual anthology, which is a solid boost for visibility. Their spring contest focuses on microfiction, a brutal but fun challenge to cram emotion into 300 words. The library’s Instagram livestreams the winner announcements, and the comment section turns into this wholesome celebration of everyone’s work. Past themes have included ‘rewrite a fairy tale with a cyberpunk twist’—quirky prompts that force you out of comfort zones. If you’re into niche categories like epistolary horror or bilingual poetry, watch their newsletter; they experiment with formats smaller presses ignore.