The small joys of writing and the big joy of listing in a writing competition...
- hayleykingwrites
- Sep 24
- 4 min read
Updated: Oct 6

There are a host of ways that we, as humans, express ourselves. I enjoy a good sing in the shower and when I was younger, studied art and textiles. The process of making something, even if (in my case) it’s destroying a song, is fundamental to who we are. But the thing I have come to love most of all about writing is its magic. When I sit down to write, it’s impossible to describe where my ideas, characters and worlds come from. It’s a particular form of alchemy I’ve fallen in love with as, I know, have you.
When I’m stuck on an idea or a plot point, the answer comes to me when I least expect it. These moments are gifts. A sudden revelation from some external muse. It’s the closest I get to believing in some innate power. When struggling with my writing, my subconscious is working on my problems. It takes the tangle I’ve created and performs a miracle, and all whilst I’m cleaning the kitchen, or taking the kids to school. Writing solutions can arrive with clarity, as if someone’s switched on the light or put down a path for me to follow. I have come to trust this process more in recent years because no matter how terrible the problem is, I always find a way through, whether that be deleting a scene, or changing a character. And yes, sometimes it’s not all rainbows. The way to fix a book can mean a rewrite, or a deletion of 40,000 words (special thanks to my writing buddies who nursed me through that dark night of the soul).
Gillian McAlister is a psychological thriller writer who shares her process openly on podcasts and social media. I love the honesty with which she shares the books she’s scrapped and the twists she couldn’t make work. I believe the small joys of writing come because the process is difficult, like fixing the last piece into an impossible puzzle. You did the work. You persevered.
Listing in a writing competition brings a different sort of joy. It’s external validation and there is no doubt it can be life changing. Your work is before agents and authors. You can use the listing when querying agents. It demonstrates that you’re putting your work out into a competitive field. Any listing is hard-won and, in my opinion, should be celebrated with gusto. But after the initial elation, it is the small, lasting joys that surprise me. After listing with several writing competitions, I gained confidence when turning up to the page and discovered a network of like-minded writers.

As Anne Lamott says: “Writing and reading decrease our sense of isolation… It’s like singing on a boat during a terrible storm at sea.” Through writing competitions, I have found many friends. We have shared our big joys and small joys together, for, in the end, one does not outweigh the other. Your innate talent and drive to write won’t always be rewarded by a placing in a competition, or an offer of representation from an agent, but the joy of writing persists. As did these friends.
When the Doubt returns, and that voice whispers terrible things, it’s your fellow writers who understand, and finding my writing tribe has been the biggest joy of all. To those of you who beta-read, stay in contact, meet up at festivals or simply like each other’s posts, you’re providing a safety net for what can be an isolating career. A couple of years ago, a friend from my writing group self-published her YA novel and there, in the acknowledgements, was my name. I cried, and yes, since having children, I’m a crier, what can I say? As the Sudowrite Blog discusses, writing the acknowledgements are a heartfelt nod to the village that helped you build your book.
It would be amiss of me not to quote my favourite ever acknowledgement in a book, from T. M. Payne’s ‘This Ends Now’:
“Two beautiful parents, Nelly and Micky Doherty. I never got to meet you, but I’m told that Susie has so many of your wonderful ways. Strength, courage, humour and devotion to family. The very best of people, the kindest and most loving. May you forever walk together, through your fields of gold. I want you to know that I will always look after your girl.”
If you are ever struggling with the process of writing or life in general, I suggest you turn to the acknowledgements page of any book to see the joy and strength your support can give and you can also receive in return.
There are small joys I cannot wait to experience as a writer, and I am eager to remember these alongside my larger, more glittering goals. I want to return to the page with a cup of hot tea, and I want to have my plot problem solved like magic. There is a wonder in what we do that writing competitions can never acknowledge, no matter how great the accolade. There is a skill in how you place words together, and a beauty in the message you want to tell. So, here I am, the founder of a writing competition, urging you to take pleasure in all the magic writing has to give. Because whilst winning a writing competition may change your life, so may the writing itself.



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