Location, Relation by kathunk

My first thought when reading this piece was, “Hey, what’s this micro doing on nonfic?” Once I learned that it was an intentional choice, I went back to reread. Then I read it again. Then once more. It’s fantastic. When we talk about our grids, we are usually emphasizing how every single word must do its job because there isn’t room for extra. But with a 1,000-word limit, there’s actually way more room than you’d think and that’s how many of us get lost. Writing to strict constraints can often bring out the best in us (or the worst, if you count throwing things and having fits), and never has this principle been more obvious than right here. We learn so much about the writer here and the emotion is developed and heavy without being cloying. The reader is not left wondering or confused, and that’s quite an accomplishment in 39 words. Less can often be more, and here it most definitely is.

The Teacher by mixedbag

Rowan’s Roundup: YeahWrite Weekly Writing Challenge #334

If I had a dollar for every time I’d seen a comment on a YeahWrite entry that said “does this piece really fit on this grid” and then the author came back with “well maybe it fits better somewhere else but I started it for this grid” I could quit this job because I’d have like ten bucks instead of a volunteer position as Managing Editor. Just kidding, folks, but this week’s Editor’s Pick really showed what happens when you commit to the writing instead of the idea of the writing you had when you started working on it. Sometimes a story or essay goes an unexpected direction. That’s fine! Go ahead and roll with it. But when you’re done writing and editing, don’t forget to doublecheck one last thing before submitting: does the piece still fit where you intended it to go? Or does it fit better somewhere else? In this case, the essay fit perfectly into 39 words, but 39 words didn’t fit perfectly into the micro guidelines. Instead of taking a machete to a good piece of prose, the author moved it somewhere it could be appreciated for what it was.

This advice applies “out in the real world,” too. Sometimes you start an essay planning to pitch it to a specific publication, and then the essay doesn’t come out like you’d expected. Don’t abandon the essay, but don’t be surprised if the original publication rejects it. It’s not a bad essay, it’s a bad fit. Send it somewhere it’s more in line with the submission guidelines, goals, or values of the publisher. Got an old competition piece? Brush it up for an anthology. Fit is as important as form when you’re submitting work.

[Ed‘s note: This is one of those weeks where the popular vote and the editors’ choices didn’t line up. They don’t always, because, well, reasons. That’s why we do both a vote and a curated choice. There’s often fantastic writing that doesn’t necessarily have popular appeal, or there’s a great grid but the top three or four posts have major proofreading errors that don’t keep them from being readable but fundamentally disqualify them for a pick. Just a little behind-the-scenes peek for you! /RBG]

After a spectacularly non-ranty week last week, I guess this week I come unraveled. Y’all. You are writers. You are grown adults who need to take yourselves seriously. That means fact-checking and proofreading before you enter a piece in a competition. This week we had a few stories that… well, you know who you are. And it happens every week. If it happens to you more than once, please sit your butt in front of the mirror and have this little pep talk:

Self, we are a writer and our work deserves to be taken seriously and read as though it were written by the pro we know we are. Nobody can do that if we don’t make sure all the words are there and all the information is correct in the story and that things are spelled right. Let’s do ourselves the favor of giving this story the best shot it can have to be well-received in the world.

And then go over to your computer and write your next story. It’s a good one, so give it the attention it needs in order for everyone else to know how good it is.

Not gonna lie: this was a really hard prompt this week. Hard in two senses: it’s a word that’s not in most people’s ordinary daily vocabulary, and you weren’t allowed to use it in the sense that it’s normally used even in extended vocabularies. Not gonna lie: we had originally intended to disqualify stories that used sea monsters at all because they’re one of the non-permitted definitions, and had to make a last minute decision not to do that because too many people were over the line and we try to err on the side of kindness (and then yell at you in the roundup instead). So instead, I’m going to talk about nuance.

Words have more than meaning. They have nuance and context. If you’re using a word that’s not in your daily vocabulary, it’s not enough to look it up in a dictionary, read the definition, and go to town. It’s also probably not enough to look it up in a thesaurus and see what other words have similar meanings. “Leviathan” doesn’t merely mean big. Its meaning is far closer to “brobdingnagian” than it is to “expansive” or “huge.” Go look for use cases instead of definitions. Reading the word as it’s used in context will give you a sense of its flavor. Is the word archaic? You might have to adjust the rest of your vocabulary to make it sound right. Is it slang? Learn where it came from, find other contemporary slang, or you’re gonna sound square. I mean ell-seven. You dig, Daddy-o?