A Literary Life Starting from the First Year of High School

Chapter 119 Bath Novel Award (Two-in-One)

"Convenient." Lin Shubai leaned back in his chair and switched his phone to his left hand.

Have you heard of the Bath Prize for Fiction?

Lin Shubai searched his mind for the name. He did know that Bath was a small town in England, famous for the Roman Baths and Jane Austen, but he really didn't know anything about the European Literature Prize. In his previous life, he was a writer of online novels, and the distance between him and the European Literature Prize was farther than the distance between the Earth and the Moon.

"I don't know much about it."

"Let me introduce it to you. The Bath Novel Award was founded in 2008 and is located in Bath. It has an annual prize of £5,000 and comes with a Minerva Trophy, which is the image of the Roman goddess of wisdom. The image on the trophy comes from the iconic statue in the Roman Baths of Bath." (The Bath Novel Award should have been founded in 2013, but it was mentioned earlier for the sake of the plot.)

Lin Shubai noted down a few key pieces of information in his mind: five thousand pounds, not much; the Minerva Trophy, named after the goddess of wisdom, naturally carries a classical, academic air.

"It aims to discover promising emerging authors," with no age, nationality, or place of residence restrictions—meaning anyone can participate. The judges are looking for works that haven't yet received the attention they deserve, not authors already with major publishing houses. However, a key requirement is that the work must be an unpublished novel.

Upon hearing this, Lin Shubai mentally reviewed his published works: "Charlotte's Web," "The Little Prince," and "Four Generations Under One Roof"—all of which had already been published and did not meet the requirements.

Allen clearly knew what he was thinking and said directly, "So The Little Prince won't do. It's already been published in China. I've checked the terms of the Bath Prize, and the rules are very clear: as long as it's been published in any country, regardless of the language, it's considered published."

"6

"So you didn't come to me just to introduce this competition, did you?" According to Allen, he didn't have any suitable ones on hand. The Bath Novel Award, just by the name, you could tell it was an award for novels.

There is a generally accepted international standard for classifying the word count of novels:

Novel – a long novel, exceeding 40000 English words.

Novella – A novella, 17500–40000 words.

Novelette – short stories and novellas, 7500–17500 English words.

Short Story — a short story, less than 7500 English words.

According to this classification, Lin Shu-bai currently only has "Red Sorghum Family" that can be called a "Novel," but Lin Shu-bai doesn't think those British people can understand it.

"Of course not. First of all, this year's Bass Awards added a medium-length category."

Lin Shubai's fingers paused on the table. The addition of a novella category to the Bass Prize meant that they were shifting their focus from "long books" to works that were somewhere in between in length, with more flexible lengths, more compact narratives, and shorter publication cycles.

This change is not accidental; the trend in the publishing industry is becoming increasingly clear: readers' patience for ultra-long novels is declining, while novellas, due to their moderate length, low reading threshold, and great adaptation potential, are becoming the new favorites of publishers. The addition of a novella category to the Bass Prize is both in line with the market and a race to the front—to define "what a good novella should be like" ahead of time.

"Secondly, I know you've been writing science fiction, and science fiction has always been a major theme for winning awards. Do you understand what I mean?"

Lin Shubai understood. It wasn't a novella, but a novella. Allen's plan was very clear. The minimum word count for a novella was 18,000 words. Since he had previously published a novella science fiction called "Night on the Galactic Railroad," Allen had set his sights on that.

"So you mean you want me to write a new novella of science fiction?"

"Yes." Allen's tone was crisp and decisive. "I've heard about your speed in writing short stories and novellas. I believe that's not a problem for you. You don't even need to start from scratch. Just take any short story setting, theme, or style that you have in your mind and expand it into a novella. I think that's enough."

"Furthermore, the mid-length fiction category doesn't restrict authors from signing with agents, so our collaboration won't be an obstacle," Allen added.

Lin Shubai nodded. Although Allen couldn't see him, he asked, "Do you have any suggestions on the subject matter?"

"No, that's your business." Allen said directly. "I'm only responsible for helping you register, submit your manuscript, and discuss follow-up. What you write and how you write it is your creative freedom. However, there's one thing—try to make the story as universal as possible and don't write a too Chinese background. The judges have limited time, and they won't spend time researching."

A story about humanity, technology, loneliness, or desire—that works in any cultural context—that's what they want.

Lin Shubai made a mental note of the suggestion.

"And another advantage is your age. The Bass Prize has no age limit, but a sixteen-year-old contestant is a topic of discussion in itself. After the judges see your age, they will pay more attention to your manuscript. They will think about what this sixteen-year-old Chinese kid can write." Then, when they open the manuscript, as long as what you write is good enough, this curiosity will turn into recognition.

"

Lin Shubai didn't respond. He knew that age was a double-edged sword. If used well, it was a plus; if used poorly, it became evidence of "immaturity." The most crucial thing was the work itself.

Allen continued, "The selection process consists of three rounds. The first round is called the 'longlist' stage. The preliminary selection is very large. Last year, we received 2,370 submissions, but only 30 made it to the longlist, with a selection rate of just over 1%. The judges first look at the first 5,000 words and a one-page story summary, and then select the best pieces to advance to the next round."

The first round eliminated the vast majority of submissions. The method was very direct: each submission was simply given a "yes" or "no" answer. Later, the submissions were distributed to the judges in groups of ten, and the thirty submissions that received votes were selected for the longlist.

Lin Shubai did the math in his head. Of the 2,370 submissions, only 30 made it to the longlist. That was much lower than the acceptance rate of *The Deduction of Time*. The rejection rate for domestic magazines was 90%, but this award's rejection rate was 98.7%. If you couldn't write an opening that would pique someone's interest within 30 seconds, you wouldn't even make it past the first round.

"After being shortlisted, participants need to submit the full manuscript. In the second round, six to eight works will be selected to enter the shortlist. The works on the shortlist will be sent to professional judges—the judges for this award are usually senior literary agents in the industry. I was one of the judges last year."

Upon hearing this, Lin Shubai gained a deeper understanding of the award. The judges in Bath were not book critics or university professors, but literary agents.

Their vision isn't literary; it's market-driven. After reading a manuscript, they're thinking: Does this book have readers? Can it sell? Is it suitable for my publishing resources? This means that from the very beginning, this award has been positioned as a "promoter," not just a symbol of honor.

Its logical chain is very clear: find a good manuscript → let the agent see the good manuscript → facilitate a contract signing.

"To participate, you only need to submit the first 5,000 words and a one-page synopsis. The whole book is not required. Even if you don't win the award, as long as you make it into the longlist, the 5,000 words and the one-page synopsis will be included in the list of recommended works sent to your agent."

Agents have these longlisted submissions on hand. They review them, and if they find something interesting, they proactively contact the author. In fact, some authors' work is discovered during the longlist stage, without having to wait until they win an award.

"This award has produced many success stories. For example, a writer submitted a famous manuscript to the competition. The manuscript was selected by the judges and a contract was signed. Later, after the book was published, the copyright was sold for a good price."

Another contestant was favored by a literary agency, and yet another contestant later became the official sequel writer for a well-known novel series. Not to mention the winners and finalists of the past few years, many of whom successfully signed contracts and published their works after the competition, including several high-selling bestsellers.

"So this is not just a competition, it is a springboard. Many people who are shortlisted gain not only the award itself, but also subsequent publishing opportunities."

Lin Shubai understood Allen's subtext: the award wasn't about the five thousand pounds, but about everything else—being nominated was an opportunity to showcase oneself to the industry. Even a longlist appearance could bring him into the agent's sights. For Allen, this was the most cost-effective way to promote himself.

"The BathNovelAward is the best promotion method I can think of right now. It doesn't have to be an award. As long as you make it to the second or third round and make a splash in front of them, we'll have more leverage in the negotiations for 'The Little Prince'."

Allen's logic was clear: submit a science fiction novella to the competition, try to get into the longlist or shortlist, let the British people know his name, so that when negotiations for the English version of "The Little Prince" begin, at least he won't be pressured to lower the price because "Lin Shubai's name is completely unknown in Britain".

"The registration deadline is May 31st. You have more than a month. Is that enough time?"

Lin Shubai thought for a moment, then said, "That's enough."

"But there's still one issue I need to clarify with you beforehand." Allen's tone suddenly became serious.

Lin Shubai also sensed the seriousness in his tone. "What's the problem?"

"Due to language issues, submissions to the Bass Prize must be in English."

Lin Shubai knew that Allen wasn't questioning his English level, but stating an objective fact. His English was indeed quite good. His English foundation from his previous life, coupled with his enhanced memory after transmigrating in this life, made reading English novels virtually effortless, and he could handle everyday conversations. However, he had never written a complete story in English, let alone a novella of more than 18,000 words.

"I know your English is very good—last time you came to see me with Professor Chen, you didn't need any help at all when reading Julia's translation. But writing and reading are two different things. A novella of more than 18,000 words involves narrative rhythm, character dialogue, and psychological description. The level of control over language required is completely different."

"So what do you mean?"

"Two options." Allen had clearly considered all the possibilities.

"First, you write the Chinese manuscript, and I'll find someone to translate it. I'll find a professional translator whose native language is English to translate your Chinese novella into English, and then submit the translated manuscript to the competition. But there's a problem here—does the translated manuscript count as the original English manuscript?" The rule says "must be written in English," and it uses "written," not "translated."

"Theoretically, translated manuscripts are also considered works presented in English," but this is a gray area, and I'm not sure if any problems will arise.

"Second, you can write it yourself in English, but you'll need someone to polish it for you. Find a native English-speaking editor to go through it after you finish writing, correcting grammar and word choice issues, but without changing the structure or plot. This way, the final manuscript is still 'your writing,' just with editorial assistance."

After listening, Lin Shubai remained silent for a few seconds.

"I understand your concerns, but I don't plan to hire a translator or ask someone to polish it."

"You want to write the English manuscript yourself?" Allen's voice carried a hint of surprise.

"Yes, I'll write it myself first. If it's not good enough, I'll find someone to polish it. But I want to try it first."

Lin Shubai's answer gave Allen a headache. He hadn't expected Lin Shubai to want to write the English manuscript himself. "Can you tell me why?"

Allen's question stunned Lin Shubai. He couldn't very well tell Allen that it was because the original texts were already in his head, could he? To be honest, if Allen hadn't already found a translator for "The Little Prince," he would definitely have asked to write it himself.

After a while, Lin Shubai finally came up with a reason: "Allen, if I hand this over to someone else without even trying, I will never know how far my English writing can go. You can trust me, I can understand many English novels I have read, and I can write them."

There was silence on the other end of the phone again, and this time the silence lasted even longer.

Allen was at a loss for words when he heard Lin Shubai's reasoning: "If you can understand it, you can write it." This was utterly absurd to Allen. He knew so many book critics and agents, and read dozens of books every day, yet none of them became famous authors. Reading ability is not the same as writing ability; this is the most basic common sense in the publishing industry.

But there was nothing he could do. Lin Shubai was now the apple of Allen's eye. He could only take it as the arrogance of a genius. Perhaps geniuses are just unreasonable. The things they can do are beyond the explanation of ordinary people's experience. Allen thought about it several times in his mind, and finally swallowed back the words he was about to say.

"————Okay." Allen's voice carried a "I'll take this gamble" tone. "You write it first, then send it to me. I'll have someone do a native speaker review. If that doesn't work, you'll have to choose one of two options. Do you accept this condition?"

"accept."

"It's settled then. The registration deadline is May 31st, so you only have a little over a month."

Lin Shubai hung up the phone and put it on the table. Allen probably thought he was taking a risk, but he knew it wasn't. Using the original text in his mind was definitely safer than the English translation from Chinese.