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Prizewinners win Prizes!

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Paul Whybrow

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My jaundiced view of literary prizes is that most of them are marketing exercises to increase the sales of an already successful novel. I understand why this happens, for it's getting the snowball rolling that's the hardest part of attracting attention to one's book, so if it's already gathered momentum why not add a few more layers with prizes?

It's worth remembering, that not all prize-winning books have huge sales. Bestselling novels are usually genre writing. There are prizes within genres, of course, but the high profile awards are somehow seen as conferring quality on the winning book which is literary in style. It's rare for a crime, western, romance, fantasy or sci-fi novel to win a major award.

I've read a few of the main contenders for this year's round of back-slapping by the publishing industry, enjoying them, but it becomes rather tedious when the same titles win lots of prizes. Colson Whitehead's
The Underground Railway
has won the Arthur C Clarke prize for science-fiction, a Pulitzer, a National Book Award and he's been longlisted for the Man Booker Prize.

Sebastian Barry's Days Without End won the 2016 Costa Book Award and the 2017 Walter Scott Prize

Francis Spufford won the Costa Book Award for a first novel, the Desmond Elliott Prize and the Ondaatje Prize for his On Golden Hill

I'm not jealous of these authors (not much :rolleyes:), for their entry into literary prize awards happens at the behest of those with vested commercial reasons, so it's hard to take them seriously.

There aren't many book awards decided by readers' votes. One such is the Books Are My Bag Readers Award which is curated through bookshops. Reader Views runs an annual competition aimed at the independent writer who self-publishes.

The Goodreads Choice Award is supposedly chosen by readers, though users of the site have no say in which books are nominated which has led to allegations of bias.

I've spent most of this year entering writing competitions, which has meant writing fresh material, as I naively self-published my entire catalogue of short stories and poetry online—effectively disqualifying it from 99% of contests. I've enjoyed the challenge of interpreting what the competition organisers are after, and have even felt a slight frisson of anticipation when I see the longlists announced for such awards as the Bridport Prize and the Bath Short Story Award.

It's easy, as an unknown author lurking in the shadows, to look at the fuss surrounding national and international book prizes and think "This is nothing to do with me."

It's all as meaningless as music and acting awards—a bunch of insincere arse kissing run by the merchants selling their wares.

Does anyone agree with me?

literature-book_award-literary_prize-literature_prize-author-novel-grin356_low.jpg
 
Prizes are all about marketing. Look at wine awards--have you ever seen a wine that hasn't won an award? I've entered one of my books in two competitions this year, solely for the potential to use a good showing in my marketing, not because I believe that a prize indicates quality (Frankly, I was thoroughly unimpressed with The Underground Railway, recipient of a gazillion awards...). From a business perspective, if I can leverage a prize into sales, I'll give it a go. A cynical view, perhaps, but a realistic one.
 
Certain prizes probably help the publishers shift books. I don't know, Paul, but in the spirit of your article here's The NOT the Booker Prize long list for 2017

I'm glad the the Guardian run this alternative prize, though reading through the list made me feel inadequate as I've only read three of them. I was surprised that Francis Spufford's On Golden Hill wasn't included.
 
Prizes are all about marketing. Look at wine awards--have you ever seen a wine that hasn't won an award? I've entered one of my books in two competitions this year, solely for the potential to use a good showing in my marketing, not because I believe that a prize indicates quality (Frankly, I was thoroughly unimpressed with The Underground Railway, recipient of a gazillion awards...). From a business perspective, if I can leverage a prize into sales, I'll give it a go. A cynical view, perhaps, but a realistic one.

I too, thought that The Underground Railway was overrated.

I really enjoyed Days Without End but it's not without its problems. The main one is that the story is told by an uneducated Irish trooper, who wouldn't have the powers of expression that author Sebastian Barry enjoys. This is always a problem in writing the thoughts of the illiterate and resorting to banal colloquialisms soon gets tiresome, but I found it hard to accept that such a lad would have such beautifully poetic thoughts. Also, the novel was written as a tribute to Barry's son coming out as gay, with the heroes of the story being in a gay relationship that was unquestioningly accepted by their fellow soldiers and officers. I'm well aware that gayness is more common in the military than has been previously acknowledged, but it still felt unlikely that they would be so readily approved by one and all, without any nastiness.

On Golden Hill
is a tour-de-force, an amazing first novel that will undoubtedly be turned into a Hollywood film, probably starring someone wildly inappropriate, like Tom Cruise!
 
It's all as meaningless as music and acting awards—a bunch of insincere arse kissing run by the merchants selling their wares.

Does anyone agree with me?
Sadly, I do. "Prize Winning Books" are a very odd thing, quite frankly. I am not sure I have enjoyed more than a handful of them; probably less (An example of a recent one I did enjoy: The Power by Naomi Alderman, but even that I enjoyed as a thought exercise, not for the actual story.). Its a lot of industry back slapping for frankly mediocre work whose subject was inexplicably en vogue for a given moment.

To push this point further, all of the writing awards are baffling thing to me. Having relatively recently tried to get into short story writing, I am finding it to be a thoroughly bizarre and utterly confusing thing. Each short story competition seems to be tailored towards a very specific style of writing and any entry that strays outside of it is not even considered, no matter how good the writing (this coming from observation, not bitter experience). The vast majority of these "prize winning" stories are, frankly, terribly written and just unpleasant to read (I won't link to examples, as I have no idea who lurks in these parts and don't wish to set fire to any possible bridges).

I have even just bought a job lot of the L. Ron Hubbard "Writers of the Future" compendiums that are published each year, to see if they offer useful insight. While the quality of writing therein is admittedly better, I cannot help but notice that the vast majority of those published in its hallowed pages go on to publish precisely nothing more. What does that say, exactly?

TL;DR? Prizes for literature seem to be miniaturised version of the Oscars; merely lauding what is fashionable within a niche group, and not representative of good writing in any way.
 
I agree with what you say, Howard. One good thing about mediocre writing, especially that which wins prizes or gets praised by critics, is that it encourages me to do better. It was seeing how two indifferent novels got published, one of which I threw at the bedroom wall it was so crass, that propelled me back into creative writing in 2013.

I know what you mean about short story competitions, and it certainly pays to research previous winners' entries, as well as the publishing career of the judges. I changed what I was going to write for one contest when I saw that the main judge had recently published a collection of short stories about man's bizarre relationship with the natural world, which included a couple of horror stories. Another contest, for Dragonfly Tea, clearly wanted spiritually uplifting stories that included the healing power of tea when people meet to drink it. The winning tale stays on their website for a year, so had to be clean and edifying...not something that I normally produce!
 
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