Bradley Johnson Productions Posts

1

why did she instagram the insides of a dead dog
mixed with sod, under a tree, is this the end already or not yet?
all day my stomach storms with muddy gushes of sod.
my brain keeps mum. body collapses. at night, the bed under me caught on fire.

 

2

they say, after having a child, you should take some time to yourself,
and keep waiting for him.

then wait for him to start speaking,
after he has started speaking.

my son.

once, in the night, as I watched you sleep,
love gushed like muddy amniotic fluid
from the ceiling.

the world that awaits us –
stone-hard, lonely,
like an abandoned manufactory in the industrial park
with the giant of a wild burdock growing inside,
colonies of blind worms, rays
of black sun.

how I waited for you, my boy,
so that I can wait longer and longer.

often, startled by that thought of you inside me,
I loved from a distance.

 

3

a tongue lashes at its limits.
day three of a depressive episode.
dead mint and cold dill on the table.
berries have no taste.

a tongue won’t cross these limits.
it’s serious there. inside the limits
guys with machine guns walk around the clock.
alarm.

the world like warm boiled water
we have to take in small sips
when sick.
who likes that?

a filthy kitchen. fat inside and out.
even the faces of the sun that reach here
through the grape leaves by the window
speak of dysphoria.

stupidly, I sit and hiccup.

 

4

pregnant cows in the buzzing armor of botflies.
as a child, by the river, I was afraid to approach them,
but today in my dream I lie
next to a cow, sucking its warm milk,
at once milk turns sour in my mouth
not made for conversations, for kissing.

 

5

perhaps I have to try harder, be
more sensitive, stop being jealous, invent something new inside my dailiness,
be lazy less, because really with some things – it’s my own fault, my own failure –
this is how every woman thinks when he screams or, vice versa, is silent and leaves,
when he is upset and the space tightens, oppresses
or like he has no clue . . .

what is happening? in one episode the star
of patriarchy’s death went out. all as before:
a rain of tears. The TV’s blackhead gleams.
I watch and eat my fat.

 

6

fat hugs the body inside and out,
breasts like old buckets hang over a dark river
of madness. it’s summer. in summer
a body sweats and becomes sticky in twenty minutes, it’s scary
to allow a touch and to undress.
I eat rotting strawberries. I watch
the hearths of faces on the internet. in summer
thoughts shrink to the size of children’s swim trunks or socks,
clitoris swells more often.

we are together only yesterday and tomorrow,
but never today. your body like a cello
string. at night you put your hand
on the oily hearth of my face, on my stomach’s tumor,
you listen to the dull steps of a guilty heart. soon
together we will slurp blood with soviet spoons
barricaded behind a thunderstorm in sullen Galicia.

 

7

because loneliness is the soviet spoons in my grandmother’s creaky kitchen cabinet,
my favorite polka-dotted mug, the slaps delivered by my mother.

it is a rural discotheque on a workday – almost empty,
only ‘Solnyshko v rukakh’ and the old cars smelling of gas by the community center.

it is a blind eye of a rural bus station and dark-green hands of boreal grass,
it is a way back.

 

8

summer. in the banya: grandma and I. I play
with a little birch broom, playing a witch, pee
on a dirt floor.

her vulva resembles a wild grey rabbit –
large, a bit fat and grey
with long hanging ears. why?

‘I birthed many children
I scrub my heels with an old knife
I want to be alone, but have to
watch you.’

I leave the sauna and feel
the wind from the river embrace my red skin.
my dog’s name is Till Eulenspiegel.
I write letters to my future self:
‘Don’t live in the further on. Live here. Soon time will blow up our bodies.’

 

9

your body is a bow string. mine is all grandma’s jam and river slush.
my clitoris resembles the snout of an anteater, your thing is
made of warm marble in summer. when we are together – something’s off.
the world rests on this. and every day at home like sleepy flies
in the bushes of hogweed, we lay on white clusters of pillows,
read about the end of the world in long books and in the cursive of vascular networks.

 

10

sour soup in an old pot. glam poster-icon above the table.
cellulose sausage, pink like Mary’s eyes. wind
carries the angel of smog through the window. burning roses of factories.
laughter of the past in a grey sandbox. already outsiders, though still kids,
signed up for the slavistics club at the local community center, we took part
in the ‘solstice’ festival, took part
in the Bolotny protest, but kept to the margins, ignorant of the cause, not
knowing about Tiananmen, in the future or in the past we supported
the protests of long-haul truck-drivers, ourselves too, we rushed someplace in dark vans,
watered ourselves with red Krasnodar wine, swallowed fire in night parks, covered the asphalt
with a carpet of sunflower shellings, we also counted small change, also
used real mail.

 

11

sometimes it seems that my hands are swift tiny paws:
they launder, wash, cook, move things from place to place,
but there’s no place for the things. we live tightly.
the house is filled with things, like a nest of thrifty birds,
and when we get tired – we shriek and peck each other.
here, our son fell out
from the nest into a new game, into a complicated world.

paws live their own life: they write at night, on the toilet,
in the tram, in the hotel, in the middle of a street, even in bed. rush,
paws, so much to do.

and my head is like the head of a large restless bird moving left to right,
thinking of what to do and how to do it:
he’s hungry, I’m hungry, they are hungry.
almost the whole world is hungry. somewhere
there isn’t even water. we have to invent food and water
that would reach everyone from everywhere.

write, paw.

paws, perhaps, like a racoon’s –
swift, fidgety,
yet if someone comes and does
what father did, what boys did at school, and guys
from the neighborhood, total
strangers, drunk friends and poets, I know
I have claws, I’d say, razor-sharp,
they would tear his body, release his blood,
even if even if they’re scared. little paws.

I remember grandmother’s hands – hard like stones,
cracked from laundry and soap, like dried steppe clay,
also cracked – and pink pulp in the cracks, droplets of blood.
she sits on a low stool by the stove and caresses, comforts her own hands:
Just a bit longer and then I can sleep.

mama says: grandma needs a good hand cream, no,
she needs a different world
where grandfather doesn’t chase her with a dog’s chain across the garden,
where food and things create themselves,
a world of different labor.

caress me with stones, grandma,
lie next to me,

the way I lie right now next to my son,
and my hands are only my hands,
rumpling his hair,
moving time in any direction, in any order –
like magnets on the refrigerator.
in one direction, when all the nests of paper lampshades in our apartment block
light up simultaneously,
and the pots in the kitchen are whistling, wet
laundry dances, bread multiplies,
mama, once again
I want to eat your rough hand that caresses me.

 

12

white towers of beautiful cakes,
cool boots
from fashion magazines – all
of this like it’s not meant for us.

Lisa magazine recommends
getting enough sleep, following
the Mediterranean diet:
strange berries of olives, cheeses
with the aroma of socks (dad is laughing: ‘bullshit!’), monsters
of underwater depths: wow!

my body
is like a tattered women’s magazine
from the 2000s, you could leaf all you want
and be surprised, but how about
an empty page at the end . . .

and what about us?

crooked shitcakes of old cows
on the road, the cozy smell
from the bread factory,
the darkness of children’s heads
doused in camphor.

 

13

this mole under a breast, like a lost raisin,
I want to tear it off and eat it.

these cracks on the belly like trails through the taiga
hello, my son! I’ve reached you.

you were inside my belly, like in a small timeless bog,
and now we are walking towards the house
with bags full of berries.

at night on my thighs I’ll see
new berry juice.
is it the month that’s coming to an end or all time? in a dream
I walk, and behind me
a shapely army of pills,
menstrual pad trailblazers,
raging fat.

will there be knots on my fingers?
will the nets and snares on my legs
spread? when
will the traps of bones start clacking,
the boards of the back collapse,
when will time blow up the inflatable tubes
of eyelids?

 

14

your body, like the wide gates of an old town, welcomes me.
my body, like the long grocery lines of the past, moves slowly.

do you see how at night in the Carpathian mountains
the animal of the moon eats its own body,
spitting the bones into our window? a dream puts on a black hat,
loneliness wears a new jacket.

tea and wine widen the body. states exploit a body.
the state has long since ceased to be that sovereign’s body, many-headed inside,
it’s more like a street the morning after a protest, the ruins of shopwindow. you like it?
do you want to go back there?

in the Carpathian mountains the low drone of dead trembitas,
followed by a Huzul night song.

we animals, we herds of autonomy.

 

 

Photograph © Mary Gillham Archive Project

 

 

This translation by Valzhyna Mort is forthcoming in F Letter: New Russian Feminist Poetry, edited by Ainsley Morse, Eugene Ostashevsky and Galina Rymbu, from isolarii, fall 2020.

 

The post Summer. Gates of the Body. appeared first on Granta.

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Whether you’ve heard of it before or not, you’re using the concept of “register” in your writing.

Register is the level of formality in a piece of writing. It’s slightly different from what we might call tone or style.

You could see it as a sliding scale, from formal language (for example, a legal document) to informal language (for example, a text message to a friend).

Examples of formal register vs. informal register

For instance, compare the following two pieces of text:

“Access to our email services and to some areas of the Site is restricted to users who have registered their details with us. You must not use a false name or email or provide any false information nor impersonate another person when registering for use of the Site and our email services.”

(From The Telegraph’s Terms and Conditions)

“CONTENT COPYRIGHT WRITERS’ HQ ©. PLEASE DON’T USE OUR STUFF WITHOUT ASKING, BUT DO ASK AND WE’LL PROBABLY SAY YES BECAUSE WE’RE NICE LIKE THAT.”

(From the footer of Writers’ HQ’s website)

The first is in a formal register, with words like “impersonate.” The second is informal, with phrases like “we’re nice like that.” Note that both pieces of text have a similar context — they each instruct users on what they can and cannot do — but they’re written very differently.

Why register matters

There’s no “right” or “wrong” register — only the right (or wrong!) one for whatever you’re writing.

By being aware of register, and noticing how your choices of words, phrases and sentence structures tie in with register, you can adjust your writing as needed.

When you get it right, it feels good. Natural.

But the wrong level of formality can be jarring for the reader. It might even undermine their confidence in your ability to provide what they need.

Imagine, for instance, researching lawyers in your area. You find a website that’s written in informal, chatty language with lots of swearing. It might be a refreshing change and encourage you to hire the person…but chances are, it’ll put you off! You’re expecting a certain level of formality from this type of person or organization.

On the other hand, imagine you’re posting on Facebook to encourage other writers in your local area to meet up for coffee. If your post is formally worded, it may sound intimidating or off-putting, and not attract the right people.

How to adjust your register for different types of writing

Here are a few suggestions for what types of register to use in different writing scenarios.

Blog posts: Most blog readers are used to an informal, friendly, conversational style. If you run a corporate blog, however, it might be appropriate to write in a slightly more formal register.

Emails: Some of your emails will be more formal than others. If you already know a client fairly well, it might seem a bit distancing or cold to address them formally (“Dear Mr. Jones…”)

Copy for a client’s website: This could be at almost any level of formality. Look at other websites in their industry, and think about their own corporate style. Some companies are known for being unusually informal and this can work well, but only if it’s what your client wants!

Formal or legal agreements: These will almost certainly be written in formal language (though there’s no reason that can’t be in plain, straightforward English). You might want to use standard templates. Invoices could fall into this category.

As a writing exercise, it can be interesting to rework a piece at a different level of formality. For instance, you might draft quite formal copy for a client’s website or blog, and also present them with an example of how it could be more chatty.

What exactly does formal writing involve?

Good formal writing is not unnecessarily convoluted, and while it may use long, Latinate words, it doesn’t use them unnecessarily. It might, for instance, use a more technical or precise word where appropriate.

When you’re writing in a formal register, stick fairly rigidly to grammatical rules. For instance, it wouldn’t normally be appropriate to have extremely short paragraphs, or to start a sentence with “because” or “and.”

In an informal piece of writing, like a blog post or email, short paragraphs and sentences that begin with conjunctions can work well to keep the pace and hold the reader’s interest. You should still avoid embarrassing grammatical mistakes, though: remember, your writing needs to be clear and easy to read.

Don’t use slang terms in formal writing — they’re informal pretty much by definition! — and don’t swear. (The exception here is if you’re quoting someone. Then it’s fine to reproduce the words they used, though depending on where your piece will be published, you may need to asterisk out all or part of any particularly rude words.)

Online, you’ll find plenty of lists of formal versus informal words. I’d use these with some caution: Don’t feel that you have to constantly second-guess your word choices, and don’t use big words for the sake of it.

As I mentioned earlier, you’re probably using register without even thinking about it. From childhood, you’ll have adjusted the register of your spoken language to different situations (compare talking with your friends to talking to a teacher, for instance), and you’re probably adept at shifting between different registers in your writing, too.

Truly understanding register, though, can help you become more aware of the word choices you make, and more able to tweak and adjust as appropriate.

As you read different things today, perhaps blog posts, emails from big companies, emails from friends, newspaper articles and text messages, think about the register of each, and how appropriate (or not!) it is for the context.

This is an updated version of a story that was previously published. We update our posts as often as possible to ensure they’re useful for our readers.

Photo via Dean Drobot / Shutterstock 

The post Understanding Register, Why It Matters And How to Use It appeared first on The Write Life.

‘Emmonsail’s Heath in Winter’ is one of John Clare’s most admired poems, its subject being – as the title makes clear – a heath during the wintry season when its ‘withered brake / Mingle its crimpled leaves with furze and ling’. Before we offer an analysis of this curious and […]

With this week’s recent announcement that season 4 of GLOW—which would have been the show’s final season—was canceled, many fans were left devastated. Sure, there are other ways to watch women wrestle on TV, even during the social distancing era—but where are we going to get our explorations of female friendship and community? Our body diversity? Our thoughtful, nuanced explorations of identity? Our ‘80s music cues? It would take a lot of books to fill GLOW’s wrestling boots, but we’ve given it our best go with a variety of reading options covering different aspects you might miss about the show.

Swing Time by Zadie Smith

Into GLOW’s exploration of the ‘80s, intensely intimate friendship between women, and complicated artistic tensions? Swing Time tackles all of these topics with Smith’s exuberant and eloquent prose. The narrator and Tracey meet in a tap dancing class in 1982, London; as the only two mixed-race girls in the class, they stand out—and become fast friends. Smith traces how their life trajectories diverge from one another, asking questions about lineage, talent, and racial inequality. (And if you want more books set in the ‘80s, check out this list.)

The Secret Lives of Church Ladies by Deesha Philyaw

Filming the show provides a way for GLOW’s female characters to find a community, expressing sides of themselves they weren’t previously allowed to explore. (How dare they deny us more Sheila as Liza Minnelli!) In a similar vein, Philyaw’s debut collection of short stories explore the lives of churchgoing Black women. Whether eating brussels sprouts together or finding solace in a parking lot, Philyaw’s characters explore what it’s like to publicly follow the rules of the church whilebreaking them in private, discovering new truths about themselves.

Trust Exercise by Susan Choi

Do you love the meta-framing of GLOW, the shooting of a show-within-a-show? Trust Exercise shows just how important narrative framing is, and asks similar questions about who gets to tell which story. Set at a performing arts high school, Choi’s novel begins with a passionate affair between two theater kids—but what starts out as a typical-seeming love story spirals out into anything but. Choi masterfully juggles topics like class, age gaps, friendship loyalties, and the idea of “fiction” itself. 

Big Friendship: How We Keep Each Other Close by Aminatou Sow and Ann Friedman

Our society tends to undersell friendship, usually placing romantic relationships or familial ties above being “just friends.” If you love how GLOW puts friendship (and the consequences of having a falling out, cough cough Debbie and Ruth) at the center of its narrative, try Sow and Friedman’s non-fiction book. The authors, co-creators of the podcast Call Your Girlfriend, talk frankly about what it means to have and sustain a “big friendship”—embracing both its messiness and gloriousness.

Interior Chinatown by Charles Yu

If you appreciate how GLOW tackles stereotypes, Interior Chinatown might offer a topsy-turvy lens into Hollywood stereotyping and racial microaggressions. Willis Wu, a self-identified “Generic Asian Man” who acts in bit roles for a never-ending cop show—the most Willis can hope for is to achieve the status of “Kung Fu Guy” (not unlike Jenny, reluctantly trapped in the role of Fortune Cookie). Structured as a screenplay itself, Interior Chinatown is a deft satire of the entertainment industry and stereotypes. 

Sisterhood of the Squared Circle: The History and Rise of Women’s Wrestling by Pat Laprade and Dan Murphy

Are you one of those viewers that are super into the wrestling sequences? Have you sought out the original GLOW footage—and rewatched it many times? Take a deeper dive into wrestling with this thoroughly researched, detailed study on women’s wrestling. From the 1800s carnival circuits and to contemporary matches, the book tackles politics, big personalities, and the history of wrestling in the U.S. After this book, you’ll find yourself well-armed with information to beat anyone at wrestling trivia. 

The Sea of Light by Jennifer Levin

If you’re interested in how GLOW explores queer sexuality in tandem with the intense physicality of wrestling, try Levin’s novel about competitive female swimmers. The Sea of Light focuses around three women, each driven to success: Brenna Allen the coach, swim captain Ellie Marks, and recruited athlete Mildred “Babe” Delgado. As a tentative community forms between the women, they must balance their desires with societal pressures. 

Tipping the Velvet by Sarah Waters

Are you into the backstage escapades of the GLOW crew? Can’t get enough of the big ‘80s hairstyles? Big Yolanda/Arthie shipper? Jump even further back in history and amp up the glitter with Tipping the Velvet. Set in the 1890s, the book centers on the relationship between Nan King and Kitty Butler, a male impersonator performer. Although Nan begins as Kitty’s dresser, the two run away to London to begin a double-act. Gender performance, disreputable women, and self-discovery take center stage in Waters’s debut novel. 

The post 9 Books to Fill the Void of GLOW Season 4 appeared first on Electric Literature.

We update these resources once each year, so you may find that some deadlines have passed. Click through to each opportunity to find the most recent application information straight from the source!

When you find yourself with a big, time-consuming writing project to pursue, your love of words alone might not pay the bills.

That’s when grant money can swoop in to save the day (and your budget).

Plus, if you find you enjoy writing grant applications, grant writing can be a lucrative niche as well.

Writers grants for women, poetry and more

Ready to apply for money to fund your writing?

Here are 20 great grants for writers based in the United States. Note: Some of these have been impacted by COVID-19, but don’t let that stop you from checking out others using the extra time to prep your materials for a delayed grant.

1. Leeway Foundation Art and Change Grants

These grants of up to $2,500 are available to women and transgender artists and cultural producers based in Greater Philadelphia, whose work emphasizes social change. That means, “social change must be integral to the ideas, beliefs and goals that are woven throughout your [writing] and your process of creating and sharing your art,” and should positively engage the community.

Keep in mind that one key to success for this grant is securing a “Change Partner”: an individual, business, or organization that is connected to your work, and who will endorse your project.

If you are at least 18 years old and live in Bucks, Camden, Chester, Delaware, Montgomery or Philadelphia counties, you are eligible to apply. However, full-time art students are not eligible. All genres are welcome. Applications must be received by the biannual deadlines (March 1 and August 1 in 2020), and you can only apply once per grant cycle.

Check out this page for all the details.

2. Grants for Artist Projects (GAP) Awards 

If you are a resident of Washington state, 18 years or older and not currently enrolled in a graduate or undergraduate degree program, this is the grant for you.

The Grants for Artists Project (GAP) awards up to $1,500 annually to 50+ practicing literary and visual artists. Grant money can support the “development, completion or presentation of new work.”

The organization also connects artists to an array of services, including career development, legal support, residencies and continuing education — just to name a few. Application dates for the next round of grants have yet to be announced for 2021, so keep your eye out for the details here. 

3. Bard College Fiction Prize

This writer-in-residence award is an amazing opportunity for an emerging writer under the age of 39 to devote a semester to a fiction project.

The recipient is required to give one public lecture on the campus and to informally meet with Bard students, but the rest of the time is dedicated to their writing project. Besides a sizable $30,000 cash award, the winning writer also gets to be a writer in residence at Bard College for one semester.

This grant for writers is awarded annually, though the 2021 application period closed on July 30; check this page in a few months to learn about 2022 deadlines. The application process is very straightforward; no lengthy FAQ pages here.

Applicants should have published at least one book, three copies of which must be submitted with a cover letter explaining their next project and their C.V.

4. Arts Writers Grant Program

If contemporary visual art is your writing area of expertise, you’re in luck. This grant funds writers who are passionate and knowledgeable about contemporary art and whose work will broaden the arts writing audience.

Both emerging and established writers can apply for a grant ranging from $15,000 to $50,000 in one of three project types: articles, books and short-form writing. Keep your eye out for the application period to reopen in spring 2020.

Details are available here.

5. Sustainable Arts Foundation Award

This “annual unrestricted cash award” stands out from the crowd because it’s awarded to artists and writers with at least one child under the age of 18, though parents of older children with disabilities or special needs may also be eligible. The foundation strives to support parents who are trying to balance their creative work with the demands of child-rearing — this year, 20 artists and writers with children received $5,000 each.

Interested applicants should submit a sample of their work, along with the answers to the questions found here. Writers are welcome to submit work within 10 different genres, but the requirements for each varies, so be sure to check the portfolio requirements before applying. The 2021 award application will be open to the public starting February 1.

6. Arizona Artist Research and Development Grant

Arizona writers who want to “advance their artistic practice, expand their creative horizons and deepen the impact of their work” may want to try their luck with this grant, which will be awarded to up to 30 artists across all disciplines this year. The grant’s amount goes up to $5,000 depending on funding.

Applicants whose projects emphasize the “new” — new techniques, new strategies, new ways of engaging communities — are primed for success. Writers should also explicitly state in their applications how their project will impact not just their own artistic practices, but also benefit the larger Arizona community.

The application has numerous demanding parts, so be sure to give yourself time to delve into the guidelines. The 2021 grant is currently accepting applications! The deadline is Thursday, October 15, 2020. 

7. Minnesota Artist Initiative Grant

Minnesota-based writers of poetry and prose should keep an eye on this grant, awarded in amounts of $2,000 to $10,000.

If you’ve been a resident for at least six months and are 18 or older, the Minnesota State Arts Board will consider your application for this grant, which supports the “career-building and creative development” of Minnesota artists across eight mediums.

Public engagement is key for successful applicants; all projects must include a community component such as a reading or open workshop. Find the full details of last year’s application process here. The grant program has been suspended for 2021, so be sure to check back for the 2022 update before applying.

8. Kansas City Inspiration Grant

Kansas City writers in the metropolitan area may be awarded between $1,000 and $2,500 for professional development and other budding projects. The regional arts council notes that the highest priority for the grant is to fund projects that significantly advance career development or an artist’s capacity to complete their work — not to fund “business as usual.”

A full proposal, which includes up to six samples of work, is only submitted after an applicant passes this initial phase.

Note that if you request more than $1,500 for your project, matching funds may be required. As of August 10, 2020, Inspiration Grants are not available currently, but will be open for applications soon. 

Check out the Inspiration Resources page for more information.

9. RISCA Project Grant Projects for Individuals

As with most other state arts council-based grants, this Rhode Island grant is available to writers who ultimately plan to share their work with the public through a reading, performance or another open event. The emphasis on public value is strong with the RI Arts Council, so this grant will best serve socially-minded writing projects.

Submit applications twice per year, on April 1 and October 1; although, fall grant applications have yet to open, so bookmark the grants page to stay up-to-date with new information. Individual applicants can request up to $3,000, but be mindful that grants may be only partially funded. If your request is especially sizeable you might consider providing proof that other organizations or individuals have financially invested in your project.

Find application details here.

10. North Carolina Artist Support Grant

North Carolina writers at any stage in their careers are invited to apply for grants to fund new or existing projects, with statewide awards ranging from $300 to $5,000. (Grant amounts vary by region.)

Application procedures and deadlines vary depending on your county, so make sure you reach out to the office designated on this page for specific regional details. The guidelines are fairly open-ended, which is good news for writers who want to use the funds for a variety of professional development needs.

11. Awesome Foundation Grant

This grant is as awesome as it sounds.

Winners receive $1,000 with “no strings attached” to pursue their incredible projects, and the foundation and its donors have no say in the finished project.

Chapters of the foundation organized by region or subject review applications and select the grantees. The process is almost unsettlingly simple, but don’t be deterred — this really is a great opportunity.

Check the website for specific information about the application requirements and deadlines for your chapter.

12. The Regional Arts Commission’s  Artist Support Grant

This grant, funded by the Regional Arts Commission, provides “direct funds for an individual artist’s projects, needs, or creative opportunities in all artistic disciplines.” The grant ranges from $500 to $3,000 and can be used for project completion, conference fees, rental space, materials, and any other resources that contribute to an artists’ development. 

You’ll be eligible for this grant if you’re 19 years or older, a resident of St. Louis City or County and have been for at least one year, and if you’ve created and presented or performed original work to the public.

This year, the Fall 2020 Artist Support Grants has been postponed, so check back periodically for updates about important dates and eligibility details.

13. PEN/Phyllis Naylor Working Writer Fellowship

Since 2001, this annual grant of $5,000 has been awarded to an author of children’s or YA fiction. “It has been developed to help writers whose work is of high literary caliber and assist a writer at a crucial moment in their career to complete a novel-in-progress.” 

To ensure total impartiality of the judging process, your submitted novel-in-progress will be judged blindly, so be sure not to put your name anywhere on your manuscript.

Among other requirements, eligible applicants should have published at least one children’s or YA fiction novel, and it must have been published by a U.S. trade publisher. Though the current grant cycle has closed, keep an eye out for next year’s deadlines.

14. Karen and Philip Cushman Late Bloomer Award

If you’re a writer over the age of 50 and your work has yet to be traditionally published in the children’s literature field, this one is all yours.

Karen and Philip Cushman and the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) established this grant for writers in 2013. Cushman considered herself a late bloomer, as her first children’s book wasn’t published until she was 53. This grant is meant to celebrate and encourage writers just like her.

Recipients receive $500 and free tuition to an SCBWI conference anywhere in the world. Plus, the requirements are a breeze: you must be a member of SCBWI and an unpublished writer of 50 years of age or older. This year, submissions were accepted from March 1 to April 15.

15. Massachusetts Artist Fellowship 

Artists in Massachusetts specializing in various disciplines can apply to receive a $1,500 award, funded by the Mass Cultural Council, which considers “the work of individual artists to be an essential part of our vital communities.” 

The fellowship is only open to artists who are 18 years or older and have been a resident of Massachusetts for at least two years. You must also be prepared to present original work; no interpretations or translations, please. 

Once open, the 2021 grant cycle will accept work under the dramatic writing category. Stay tuned for more information about application dates, deadlines and final award amounts.

16. The Arkansas International Emerging Writer’s Prize

Unpublished writers, apply to this grant for the chance to receive $1,000 and have your submitted work published. 

Your entry should be a double-spaced single prose work with no more 7,500 words — or poem packets of up to five poems — and it’ll be judged by only one person: Deb Olin Unferth, an established published author. Accepted categories are fiction, nonfiction, poetry, essays, comics and works in translation.

The application fee is $20, which includes a one-year subscription to The Arkansas International. This grant sets itself apart by allowing multiple entries within one grant cycle, but it’ll cost you a new application fee each time. This year’s deadline is November 8, 2020.

17. The George A. and Eliza Gardner Howard Foundation Fellowship

If you need to set aside some time to focus on your writing, this opportunity might be what you’re looking for.

Administered by Brown University, this fellowship was created with the intention to “provide artists, scholars, and writers with time to complete their work.” The 2021-2022 fellowship of $35,000 will be awarded to nine mid-career individuals in the fields of Creative Nonfiction and History.

You’ll be eligible if you’ve achieved recognition for one major project, and if you can answer “yes” to these questions. Applications will be accepted until November 1, 2020. If your genre isn’t a field of focus this cycle, try again next year — fellowship applications are available from July 1 to November 1, then awarded in the spring.

18. The Ernest J. Gaines Award for Literary Excellence

This award “is now in its 14th year and has become nationally recognized in its role of enhancing the visibility of emerging African-American fiction writers while also expanding the audience for this literature.” The $15,000 cash prize will support the writer as he/she focuses on writing. 

To be eligible, you’ll need to be an African-American U.S. citizen with a published work of fiction, and you should be willing to attend the award ceremony in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. During your stay, participation in community engagement and educational outreach activities are also expected.

The deadline for the 2020 grant cycle has passed, so be sure to check the site soon for updates about 2021. 

19. Artists 360

Designed to elevate greater Northwest Arkansas artists, Artists 360 provides $7,500 grants “to support creative projects, learning opportunities to develop entrepreneurship skills and build sustainable creative practices, and connections to a dynamic regional artist network.” The four artistic disciplines accepted are visual arts, performing arts, literary arts and traditional arts. 

To be eligible, be an artist with an active and current artistic practice, have specialized training in your field, and show you’ve succeeded in the arts through high-quality work and/or contributions to the field.

There’s still time for this one, writers: The application deadline for the 2021 grant cycle is October 16, 2020. Find more details here. 

20. Saratoga Arts Individual Artist Grants

Writers in the upstate New York State region — Fulton, Montgomery or Saratoga counties, specifically — this grant is for you. Funded by the Saratoga Arts, the Artist Grant focuses on individual artist work to enhance career development, skills and broaden exposure, “while fostering creative, resourceful and inspiring connections between artists and a community.”

Grants of $2,500 will be awarded to artists to create new work and share their creative process with the community. Funding can support art-related supplies and materials needed for the execution of the program, artist fees and other outreach costs.

For the 2021 grant cycle, these are the deadlines you need to know: the letter of intent deadline is September 25, 2020; the application review deadline is October 16, 2020; and the application deadline is November 6, 2020. Eligible artists from all artistic disciplines can apply via Submittable.

Looking for more great grants and funding options? Check out C. Hope Clark’s fantastic list of opportunities at Funds for Writers. 

The original version of this story was written by Kristen Pope. We updated the post so it’s more useful for our readers.

Photo via Tero Vesalainen / Shutterstock 

The post Get Paid to Write: 20 Great Grants for Writers appeared first on The Write Life.