WordSisters

Category: Writers awards

  • Don’t Ever Give Up!

    I was a Loft Mentor Series finalist four times.

    Antonio and Crystel, May 2003 Graduation Party
    Antonio and Crystel, May 2003 Graduation Party

    This doesn’t count the many times that I submitted to the Loft Mentor Series and wasn’t a finalist.

    Because I had been in the finalist circle I knew that I had ‘something’ readers liked. And, that gave me the gumption to keep submitting. I also believed in the Loft Mentor Series and the possibilities that came with winning. (The Loft Mentor Series in Poetry and Creative Prose offers twelve emerging Minnesota writers the opportunity to work intensively with six nationally acclaimed writers of prose and poetry.)

    I graduated from Hamline University with an MFA in 2003, the same year that Antonio and Crystel came home. To have the infants at my graduation was important to me. I was birthing an MFA and a created family.

    In 2003, I was a Loft Mentor Series finalist in poetry and nonfiction. Ten years later, I’ve become a winner.

    Nephew Dan and I cutting our joint Graduation cake
    Nephew Dan and I cutting our joint Graduation cake

    In those ten years I honed my submission over and over finally landing on “The Trip.” The trip is an essay that speaks of my relationship with Jody, our trip to Guatemala to see Crystel and to bring Antonio home, and our challenges as a same-sex couple who were creating a family. This past year for the mentor series, I added a 4-page chapter, “Fire,” that I revised after taking a workshop with Mary Carroll Moore. The story illustrated family dynamics after I burned my back and required hospitalization when I was fifteen-years-old. In essence, I had scourge and rebirth side by side.

    You can have the finest essay and never be a winner in the Loft Mentor Series because you have to be chosen by two mentors, who are stating by choosing you that they want to work with your material.

    Jerald Walker
    Jerald Walker

    Each year that I submitted, I’d research who the mentors were and I’d always wonder if I would be chosen. Jerald Walker and Mark Anthony Rolo  are the non-fiction mentors for 2013. Part way through reading Jerald Walker’s memoir, I thought maybe, just maybe he might pick me. Something resonated with me in his words and though our histories are different, there are also similarities in the odds that we faced in climbing out of our circumstances and that our past didn’t determine our life. Mark Anthony Rolo’s first

    Mark Anthony Rolo
    Mark Anthony Rolo

    chapter describes his mother entering a burning house to save her children (who were not in the house), and how she was badly burned in the process. Fierce love and deprivation was being described in the same sentence. Whoa, I thought. Maybe, just maybe.

    Thankfully, my mentors never gave up.

    And they chose me.

  • Competing With Friends for Writers’ Awards

    Earlier this month, I applied for an Emerging Writer’s Grant and a Loft Creative Prose Mentorship, knowing full well that I’m competing with my good friends for these honors. I really want to win. So do the women in my creative nonfiction writers group.

    We’ve known each other for years. We’ve visited each other’s homes. We’ve cried together when one of our circle died. These women often know more know about the contents of my mind and heart than some of my family members do—they read my innermost thoughts firsthand when our group meets.

    They are insightful critics and steadfast cheerleaders. Because we share personal essays and memoir, our subject matter is always personal. Sharing our stories requires trust, and we’ve strengthened that trust over the years. The other writers don’t judge me or my life. But they do evaluate my writing craft and urge me to do my best. We all understand that the writer is different from the writing.

    Perhaps the ability to draw the distinction between the person and the craft is why we’re able to draw other distinctions and balance two seemingly conflicting ideas: we’re friends and we’re competing.

    Although there have occasionally been moments of frustration or resentment among the group members, we have been able to rise above them. For me, these aspects of our group dynamic have helped keep our competition from turning into conflict—

    • All of us are accomplished writers who deserve to win a grant or a mentorship. But we know that winning these contests is a crapshoot. Once you’ve met a certain level of competence, the next round of judging is subjective—my memoir about wrestling with feminism in 1979 might not appeal to a judge as much as my friend’s essays about traveling in Cuba. Luck plays a role.
    • Over the years, we have fostered a “one for all, all for one” mentality. When illness sapped our founder’s energy, the group mounted a submissions campaign to help her get published. When members ask the group to review their grant proposals, we give them our best advice.
    • Some of us openly state that we’re going after an award; others are more circumspect—each according to her personality. Perhaps that tact and reticence is what enables us to avoid open conflict.

    I don’t know for sure what the magic is. And I hope talking about it doesn’t wreck it. I’m proud to be a part of a group that has navigated these tricky waters successfully . . . so far.

    I want an Emerging Writer’s Grant or a Loft Mentorship. If someone else in the group wins, I’ll be sorely disappointed for myself. But I’ll be happy for her.