Writing Competitions Novels & Stories

It was a notification from the class group chat with good news. [Congratulations to Ellie Wagner! Her writing “My Mom” won first prize in a local competition and has been shortlisted for the state competition. Please take note, Mrs. Wagner!] That’s great. My writing won an award. I revised that writing so many times and poured so much of my heart into it. It was filled with my most genuine feelings for Mom. The group chat was instantly flooded with congratulations. [Mrs. Wagner, you’re amazing! How did you raise such a well-rounded child?]

I quickly scanned the papers—it was actually a solid idea. We were the ones to hold the workshop while they handled the contest afterward. The winners would have their work published by Arrow Publishing, with their names on it, and even a chance to be scouted as new writers. I looked at Lathan. “Have you seen this?” I asked. He shook his head. “I’m actually waiting for you. If you like it, I’ll sign it.” Kin and Enzo cleared their throats while Sierra covered her mouth to hide her laugh.

After all, he was my numero uno fan. “Not really… well, kind of. My manager told me about this competition all over the States when I went to submit my draft to her, it’s about writing an original novel on any genre the writer prefers. Whoever wins—I think there will be one from each genre—will get their book published nationwide and sign a five-year contract with one of the famous publication houses.” I explained. “Ah! That’s great! You decided on what to write yet?” he asked curiously, laying his head on my lap as he did so. “I could give you—”

said Betty. She unzipped her handbag and took out a flyer Marietta had given her. "Look, this is the competition I'm talking about. It's a short story contest that will be announced to the public in a few days. "However, this contest is a last-minute thing being held in Marietta's honor, so the timing is very rushed. They want submissions next month. "Take a look and see if you want to participate in it. Your short story is only about a few thousand words long anyway."

"Just discussing an opportunity Lucy should absolutely pursue." I felt a familiar mix of excitement and terror. Competitions meant exposure. Vulnerability. Telling stories I'd worked hard to keep private. "The deadline is in two months," Mrs. Rodriguez said. "Plenty of time to develop a truly remarkable piece." I left the art room with the competition guidelines, my mind spinning. The possibility both excited and terrified me. At home, I spread the papers across my desk, tracing the competition requirements. Mixed media. Narrative art. Maximum dimensions. Submission guidelines.

Polls appeared. Videos appeared. Apparently the entire university had decided to participate in a competition I didn’t even know existed. At first I ignored it. Then Chloe sent me a screenshot. Followed by three laughing emojis. I opened the image. Immediately regretted it. The university’s largest student publication had announced the results of its annual campus awards, while thousands of students had apparently participated in voting across multiple categories involving athletics, student organizations, academic achievements, and campus culture. Most categories seemed harmless. One category did not.

Harry said. “That’s really great, I’d love to read her books” Cummins said. “Yeah she’d give you some copies, the arts though, most of them are works by several high school students, some of them here in Denver, while others are in Colorado , Springs, me and Leah sometimes help conduct art competitions in their high schools, where we pick the best three artworks, buy the works from the artists, and offer them scholarships to top arts schools in the country, you know our ways of giving back to the society” Harry said.

I said. He nodded and then reached into the bag he was carrying. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and held it out to me. I took it and unfolded it. It was a flyer, printed on good paper, not the kind people made on a home printer. It had a photo of a large open gallery space at the top and bold text underneath. ARTISTS CONNECT. ANNUAL ART EXHIBITION AND COMPETITION. I read further down. It was an open competition for artists at any level. You submitted a piece or a series of pieces. A panel of judges reviewed them. There were different categories—Painting, sculpture, mixed media, digital.

"I've submitted this to the National Young Scientists Research Competition. I should have asked Lily first and I should have told you. I acted quickly because the submission window was closing and I didn't want her to miss it." Elena was quiet for a moment. "What's the competition?" "It's the largest national competition for secondary school scientific research. Top prize in the biological sciences and technology category is fifty thousand dollars and a research placement at one of three partner universities." A pause. "Elena, I've been in education for twenty years. I have never submitted a student's work to this competition before without at least three rounds of revision and coaching. I s

It looks like the two have something important to say. "As you all know, The Journal, an online writing site, will now expand into paperback! And as a part of our marketing, the new board decided to make a new tradition on our anniversary. It is a program that will give recognition as well as incentives as price for those who will be chosen from different writing categories. Of course, we will have judges and criteria for these,” Sir Patrick said. "It will be called The Journal's Award! And every year we have a theme. This year's theme will be…” Louise was interrupted by Sir Patrick. That goes to show how excited he is about this awards night.