Seriously, Kurt Andersen?
I Lost The Medium Writers Challenge, Now What To Do With All This Salt?
Thoughts on becoming a proud non-winner of the Medium Writers Challenge
It’s been a weird morning. You may not have heard — I found out entirely by accident — but Medium staff just awarded $90,000 worth of prizes to the four grand winners of their recent Medium Writers Challenge.
Congratulations to the talented writers.
I’ve read through all the winning entries and I have to say, they’re excellent. All have elements in common. A lot of thought was clearly put into each composition. They all share deeply moving personal stories. They all touch upon deeper social issues that affect broad swaths of society. They all cleverly weave the inevitable melancholy of life into the fuller, more beautiful patchwork of the human experience.
It probably won’t surprise you to hear that I’ve made my own submissions. In retrospect, I didn’t tick the right boxes. No personal stories. No deep social issues. Maybe a bit of melancholy, but certainly not woven into anything deeper. So I didn’t win. Makes sense, right?
Yet I’m still salty.
If you also poured your heart into a submission destined to be forever lost in the bowels of the internet, you may have produced some salt of your own. This competition was all or nothing. Sizeable financial reward and internet glory for the few, while the many become a statistic.
I contributed to Medium being able to brag about getting over 9,000 entries. Hurray, teamwork.
So if you’re like me, first of all my condolences, but more importantly I’d like to make some suggestions on how to put all that salt to good use.
1. Use it to cauterize the emotional scars you’ll get from reading all the winning entries
While all the entries were undoubtedly moving and well written, I can’t recommend reading them all in one sitting. You’ll be treated to deep, raw, emotional takes on suicide, mental illness, disability, systemic racism, discrimination, and immigration.
Or as the Medium judges call it, “hours of satisfying reading.”
Each one will tug on your heart strings, but combined, they might cause severe emotional scarring. I recommend dedicating part of your salt to the process of healing.
2. Sell it to buy the Medium staff some plane tickets
Every single winner of the Medium Writers Challenge wrote an essay deeply rooted in the American experience. I’m not saying there aren’t universally relatable elements to their stories, but the United States is the backdrop to each narrative.
I’m glad they went with a diverse group of winners, but as a global website, it would have been nice to have just one Medium winner that didn’t have anything to do with the United States.
Then again, I guess it’s natural for people to relate the most to the stories closest to our personal lives. The lack of international perspectives among judges should have been a warning signal. As was the fact they added a link to the “National Suicide Prevention Lifeline” without specifying it’s only available to US residents.
And yes, I know. Medium staffers can clearly afford their own plane tickets. But I don’t know how else to encourage them to befriend foreigners. Medium staff, if you’re reading this, I can hook you up. Just call me on my salt phone. Late night when you need my love.
3. Craft it into a time-traveling robot, then send it into the past to teach Kurt Andersen how to pander
For some reason, somebody thought it would be a good idea to add to the winners announcement post this quote from MWC judge Kurt Andersen:
I don’t think I’ve ever been involved in a judging process where all the judges read all the work, or where the best work was so unequivocally the best.
Curious about what he was implying, I got out my patented plain English translator, which popped out:
Nobody has ever forced me to read so much drivel. Thank the Heavens at least some entries were serviceable. Next time get the butlers to sieve through the excrement before interrupting my afternoon Shih Tzu trimming spectacle.
Interesting take. I don’t think I’ve ever been involved in a competition where one of the judges was so unequivocally dismissive of all but the best entries.
At least give us the standard, “Wow folks, you put in so much effort! I’m moved by how dedicated and passionate the Medium writing community is!”
Good thing my readers and followers aren’t all Kurt Andersens — my writing spirit would be crushed.
4. Build a little salt cave, get cozy inside, and take time to ask yourself why you write
I didn’t win, nor — according to Kurt Andersen — did I get anywhere close to winning. But looking back, I was never going to win.
I don’t like writing deeply personal essays about my struggles. I have trouble reading the personal essays of others, regardless of writing quality. There’s just something about the format that makes me uncomfortable. When I feel deeply connected to a subject, as I was when I wrote my submission about thanatophobia, I would much rather look for a parable, or a metaphor, or some other fictional device to connect with the reader.
The writers who inspired me the most never wrote autobiographies.
I think there are readers out there who feel the same. I see them when I share my writing with my amazing friends. I see them when I sail the seas of Medium upon the good ship MuddyUm, with its crew of creative, at times wacky, yet always endearing writers. I see them among the amazing, brilliant and lovable human beings who have done me the honor of following my work — see Kurt, that’s how you do it.
My salt was of my own making. I let my value as a writer be determined by judges I’ve never met, from a different culture, with different standards and writing preferences. It was a mistake I won’t make again.
As for what to do with all my salt, I have a final suggestion.