I was on the road in Nevada last week so didn't get to write any posts. I was working as a consultant to the Nevada Arts Council in Carson City. In the six weeks leading up to the trip, I read 42 creative writing manuscripts and had to decide which were the prize-winners and which were destined to finish out of the running. The NAC awards three creative writing fellowships of $5,000 each and three honorable mentions of $500 each. You'll have to await the NAC press release to discover this year's winning writers. But the fellowship panel process is an interesting one. I encourage writers to participate some time during their careers.
I know -- not all writers believe in these kinds of prizes. Elitist, they say, a chance to shower money on those boring academically trained writers who know how to work the system. Or it's just a way for poets to pick up a little cash to feed their habit. Others don't apply because they want a career in children's writing or want to write mysteries that show up in the best-seller charts. And who can blame them? They're shooting for places in the more lucrative and ultra-competitive world of commercial publishing.
In my role as literature specialist at the Wyoming Arts Council, I've seen a number of writers whose careers were jump-started by government-sponsored fellowships. Wyoming has two fine mystery writers -- C.J. Box and Craig Johnson -- who won fellowships before they were published. Box's game warden, Joe Pickett, and Craig Johnson's sheriff, Walt Longmire, are now almost as famous as they are. Page Lambert was a bank teller and a ranch wife before writing what were to become fellowship-winning manuscripts. She's now well-published and a leader of writing workshops around the country (and drat the fact -- she no longer lives in WYO). Mark Spragg's wonder novel, "An Unfinished Life," was transformed into a movie of the same time with some big stars. Tim Sandlin writes comic novels ("Jimi Hendrix Turns Eighty") and comic scripts for the likes of Drew Barrymore. Until recently, Mark Jenkins wrote a fine column for Outside magazine. The Laramie-based international adventure writer now concentrates on book writing (he already has three to his credit).
Many fellowship winners, no matter what state they live in, will ever gain this type of status. Most writers never support themselves with their creative work. But their writing deserves recognition, so that's why I do this and why I believe in being part of the greater literary community. Sure, I get paid for being a consultant on my own time. But it's at about the level one would suspect when you work for a state agency that gets funding only after roads, medical care, and education.
When I worked for the National Endowment for the Arts in Washington, D.C., in the mid-nineties, I went to a reading and book signing by one of my favorite authors, John Calvin Batchelor ("The Further Adventures of Halley's Comet"). He read from his new novel and then signed books for the modest-sized crowd. I wondered why his darkly humorous work had never caught on. As he signed my book, I told him that I worked in the NEA's literature program. He paused, looked up, and then launched into a rant against the agency and how a bunch of monkeys locked in a basement could do a better job of granting fellowships. The NEA gave out $20,000 awards back then and still does.
I was taken aback. I mumbled something about the process being fair and balanced (that was before FOX News stole the term). He just snorted and shoved the book in my hands. I walked away, a bit pissed, somewhat shamed. The next day, I looked up Batchelor's name on the list of NEA awardees. It wasn't there. I've since found out that his objection was probably more ideological that personal.
Not everyone who deserves a fellowship gets one. But many do.
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