A writer's "stepping" block - The Oxford Dictionary defines the word "slush" as "partially melted snow" or "watery mud". But in the publishing world, a "slush pile" can often be interpreted as a mound of shattered dreams.
Allen and Unwin , one of Australia's leading independent book publishing houses, reported receiving 1,650 freelance manuscripts in 2006 and their fiction publisher, Annette Barlow, estimates that they have been sent just as many every year since. These manuscripts go into what is publicly called the unsolicited pile, but for those skilled in publishing jargon, it is best known as the two words that define a heap of icy brown water - a slush pile.
Out of this towering stack of fictitious stories or how-to manuals, Barlow approximates that each year an average of only two will ever see the light of day. "A lot of writers are going to have their dreams dashed, I'm afraid," she says.
Book writing may, indeed, be described as a profession where the road to success is paved by the sharp shards of broken hearts. But before any aspiring writers decide to back away from the challenge, know there is hope.
Since its creation in 1980, The Australian/ Vogel Literary Award has been praised as the fastest route for novice writers to introduce themselves to the industry. Founded by Niels Stevns - the man who brought Vogel bread to Australia - the Vogel invites any writer under 35 to submit an unpublished fiction manuscript for a chance at a substantial amount of cash and a prestigious publishing deal with Allen and Unwin.
Through the Vogel, a handful of well-known names in Australia's literary front have been discovered: Tim Winton, Kate Grenville, Gillian Mears, and Brian Castro to name a few.
"It's such a valuable award for encouraging young writers and hopefully for a writer who wins the Vogel to keep producing and really contribute to our literary heritage," Annette says.
"I've heard many winners and even short listers say to me, 'that was the time when I finally took myself seriously as a writer or that was the first time anyone else has called me a writer.' It's that type of coming of age through the Vogel that I think is really important."
It's that type of coming of age through the Vogel that I think is really important
The Vogel Awards have not been without their share of scandals. In the mid-90s, Paul Radley, Vogel's first winner, publicly announced that he was not the penman of his 1980 winning novel, Jack Rivers and Me. He admitted that his uncle - who was well above the Vogel's age limit - had written the piece. The award has since been offered to that year's runner up, Archie Weller, for his novel The Day Of The Dog.
In 1985, no winner was announced. This was simply because the judges felt that no submitted draft was worthy of the prize. "They don't have to give an award every year, and I think that's important for the integrity of the award," Annette explains.
Last year, the Vogel received a little over 200 hopeful manuscripts, which were then divided among four judges. Out of their piles, the judges were tasked to make a long list of potential winners. Each judge can return a long list with as many as 20 manuscripts, but there have been occasions in the Vogel's history where a judge will come back with just one.
Matt Rubinstein , author of the recently published novel A Little Rain on Thursday was one of the judges for 2008 - a job he enjoyed thoroughly. "[I enjoyed] discovering just how many brilliant writers there are out there that nobody knows about and working away on what could be the next big thing. And then being able to give them some of the encouragement they deserve, so that with any luck they'll keep going."
There were a lot of really impressive manuscripts this year, and all of the short listed books were full of compelling stories as well as beautiful, virtuosic writing. It was hard to pick a winner.
Out of his batch of 49 manuscripts, Matt chose to long list only six. "They all had brilliant things about them, though they weren't all brilliant all the way through," he explains. "There were a lot of really impressive manuscripts this year, and all of the short listed books were full of compelling stories as well as beautiful, virtuosic writing. It was hard to pick a winner."
After a healthy amount of deliberation, the judges decided on Document Z by Andrew Croome, a novel that puts a personal spin on the Petrov affair and certain events in Australia's history during the Cold War. "It was the scale and scope of Andrew's ambition, and the seemingly effortless way he achieved it, that won it for me," Matt shares. "It's rare to find a novel that combines the global and the personal as effectively as Document Z."
After The Australian announced Andrew as the 2008 winner, many struggling writers were surprised to discover that he had never finished a manuscript before Z. "I think my past attempts were hindered either by a lack of structure and planning or by having no definite or well defined end point," Andrew elaborates. "This time around I had much more of an idea about where the manuscript was headed, what the story was, and so it was much easier to write around that."
Like many previous Vogel winners, Andrew didn't expect to beat over 200 hungry, budding writers. "I hoped at best to be short listed and to gain the attention of agents and publishers. To come away with the win really exceeded all expectations," he says. "I'd always hoped to have a book published at some stage - with winning the Vogel that's come a lot earlier than expected."
It helped me stand out briefly from the huge crowd of aspiring writers...
2007 winner, Stephen Laszczuk whose novel I Dream of Magda offers a humorous portrayal of two brothers trying to find solace in their dreams and solitude, also discovered how the Vogel can be the fast track to publishing success. "It helped me stand out briefly from the huge crowd of aspiring writers - not just in terms of getting a book published, which is hard enough in itself, but also in terms of being reviewed by most major publications and being invited to participate in writing festivals." But Stephen wants to share that although winning the Vogel opens doors, it may not magically open all. "I had my grant application rejected by the Australia Council – apparently winning the Vogel (and a Premier's award) doesn't qualify me as a potentially successful developing writer in this country, so you know, go figure…" he laments.
"I am thirty-five, unemployed, and living off my prize-money, which is about to run out. It's all very well to romanticise the struggling life of a writer, but believe me, when those grants don't come through, you wake up every day wishing you were a failed chief executive awaiting your golden handshake."
2006 winner, Belinda Castles feels that the Vogel's age restriction was the push she needed that forced her to finally finish her winning novel, The River Baptists. " I had a small child, a mortgage, and very little time. But the Vogel deadline helped as I knew that after that one I'd be too old, and I really wanted to give it a shot." Armed with a Masters degree in Novel Writing from the University of Manchester, Belinda believes that being in a school setting can give your writing an edge. " I have a theory that half of Australia's writers are currently embarked on MAs, PhDs and DCAs on the quiet because it gives you that time, and access to very talented and thoughtful people during the process of writing," she explains.
Whether you come from a writing education background or have simply daydreamed of putting your magical thoughts down on paper, Matt encourages you to send in your manuscript for the Vogel Awards. "If you've written a book that you're happy with, send it in," he says. "Don't worry about whether it conforms to the Vogel type - there's no such thing. Whether it's a crime novel, a romance, a memoir, a science fiction or fantasy book or a work of experimental fiction, if it does what it sets out to do well then it's got a great chance."