Here Comes the Judge!
Judges' Observations
One of the responsibilities of the judges for the Seacoast Writing contest, in addition to their major responsibilities of picking winners, is to talk with the conference participants about the process of choosing. What do they look for in the winning entries? How do they distinguish between first place and an honorable mention? What can the participants learn from the process as they think about entering the contest in the upcoming year? In the evaluations, many of you complimented the judges on their remarks and asked whether we could make copies available. We appreciate the judges' generosity in sharing their expertise with our readers.
Diana Durham - 2006, the judge for the personal essay category, found that many of the entries were really more memoirs, personal stories that did not entirely qualify as essays because the author did not use the personal experience to reveal new insights, taking the reader into a discussion of an issue or an idea. Some entries were very well written, but did not qualify for a prize because they did not move past the personal story stage. Diana said she also looked for quality of language. Is it living? Is it personal, fresh, exact? Does it serve the thought process? In construction, she said, an essay should open in a way that engages and arrests attention. In its first paragraph or first few lines, it should set out or evoke what it is going to explore. It cannot just be a ramble or a story. "A good personal essay," she said, "takes me through the story and the extrapolation, and leaves me with a new conclusion that reiterates familiar ideas but also contains new ground."
Barbara Dimmick -2006, the fiction judge, thanked SWA for inviting her to judge the fiction manuscripts in the SWA writing contest. There are stages of being a judge. she said. "The pleasure of being asked, then some weeks later the heavy thump of a very thick envelope packed with pieces of fiction. Then the reading. If you've never sat down with a big pile of manuscripts and read straight through it, I highly recommend it." Among the entries, she told the participants, she happily experienced some of the most rewarding traits of good fiction:
The sweet surprise of a sudden turn in a character's temperament. Images that are not only fresh but strangely, immediately full of truth. Voices we haven't heard in daily life, and voices that were familiar but still have a story to tell. Characters who became more real than actual people and who, through the story, I got to know better than some people I know in daily life. Characters who, near the beginning of a story, do something which can not be undone, or say something that cannot be taken back. Plots that open out from active characters. Plots that unfold naturally, first one character then another in power or at a disadvantage. Plots that turn and zig-zag organically, that make me wonder who will do what next? How will this turn out? What are these characters actually capable of? What secrets, what desires drive them forward? Endings that allow a glimpse into the human heart, that show us something not just about the characters, but about ourselves. Endings we could not have predicted when we began to read And endings that both surprise us and seem inevitable all at once.
Dimmick especially praised the three winning entries. The "stories hovered within my recollection, and yielded rewards upon each reading. In each of these, the characters are engaged in meaningful and revelatory crises. Each main character desperately wants something, and each is willing to risk something vital in exchange."
Remarks by Bob Crawford - 2006, the SWA Poetry JudgeSeacoast Writer’s Conference,
I want to thank all the poets who submitted their work to the contest. Having been on the other end many times, I know what an awkward thing it is to send something as precious as a poem off to endure the strange process called judging. You have no idea of what you are up against. How many other poems were there? Ten? A thousand? Is the next Shakespeare entering this same contest? Who is the judge? Is he or she the kind of wise and careful judge that will see my poem for the brilliant work that it is? I appreciate all of you who dared to toss a poem into the dark hole of another poetry contest. I’ve been asked to say a few words on how I choose the winners, But first I’d like to tackle head-on the notion that judging is “all subjective.” A notion I get every time I lose in a poetry contest. Is it subjective? Of course! It is me, alone at the kitchen table or by the woodstove that the poet had to impress. My likes and dislikes, no doubt, played a role in how I reacted to a poem. For example, a sonnet or other formal poem would be hard pressed to find a more sympathetic ear than mine. But it is definitely not ALL subjective or even 25% subjective.
At the beginning of every semester teaching Introduction to Poetry I am confronted by students who claim that there is no way to evaluate art, especially something as intimate and emotional as poetry. They think that in judging the art you are somehow passing judgment on the artist’s feelings, and how can you say feelings are right or wrong? To demonstrate that you can and have to pass critical judgment on art, I hand out ten poems roughly from the same time period and ask them to rank them 1 through 10. About half of them are accepted, well anthologized masterpieces, the other half are less well known poems—some really bad—from the era. It’s amazing how the class quickly reaches consensus on the ranking, and how the masterpieces are ranked ahead of the second-rate.
There are certain universal principals of craft that apply when evaluating each entry: use of image, metaphor, handling of sound, line break, etc. Since I have very limited time today, I’ll just discuss one of the principles that I use: One of the most important qualities a poem can have is one I call “transportation.” Am I transported when I read the poem to a specific, textured place; a place developed and expanded for me by the language of the poem. Am I swept off my feet to the location of the poem? Can I see and feel the new place? It’s important that the poem do this for me right off the bat in the opening lines. When I’m judging hundreds of entries I really don’t have time to read a poem over and over to find out where I am, or what is happening to me as a reader. The first lines, as Frost said, need to “nail the reader’s feet to the floor.” While ordering the 2nd through 6th place poems was fairly difficult, awarding 1st place to “The Men” was easy. I think when it is read you will see why. Oh, and listen carefully for the ending. It uses one of those amazing images that stick with you long after the poem is read. I wish I’d written it.
Bob Crawford, is author of the recently-published collection of poems, "Too Much Explanation Can Ruin a Man."
And from 2007: Laurie Morrissey…
The first thing I look for in non-fiction essays is a fresh
lead that pulls me in with a vivid picture, a surprise, or
something else that makes me curious. Other attributes
that put certain essays at the top are strong, clear prose;
intelligence and purpose; shape or intention; and a distinctive
voice. I look for essays that evoke several
senses, not just the visual; especially those that evoke
them in a way that is not familiar. The best essays are
thoughtful, challenging readers to engage with the material
on more than one level; to understand, feel, or sense
something they didn’t understand or feel or sense
before. Many essays contained some [of these qualities].
The challenge was finding those that have several or all
of them under one roof.
On fiction, from novelist Merle Drown…
First, I had a difficult time judging the stories because I
found many good ones with a wide variety of styles and
characters. I looked for interesting, multidimensional
characters, often in conflict with themselves. I looked for
language that startles, particularized vocabulary that
captures scenes and action, and pins characters to the
page. I want a style that makes my ear happy. I like
strong beginnings. I favor tales with powerful emotions,
though they present themselves subtly. I want themes
that matter. I like to see character, theme, and action
interwoven seamlessly. I look for mastery.