by Mark Herwig

I have purchased hundreds of articles, photos, and illustrations for the three outdoor magazines I’ve edited the past 13 years out of White Bear Lake, Minnesota. I’ve also sold quite a few freelance articles, including this one, so I know the game from both sides.

The writers I consistently buy from always have good ideas. People can be good writers, but if the ideas they shoot me don’t work, that’s the end of it. If I like an idea, but the writer is new to me, I ask for the story on “spec” (speculation); that is, I only agree to buy it if I like it.

If someone is a known entity or has done good work for me on several occasions, and if I’ve given the assignment or accepted the query, I’m paying for the article, period. I make one exception: if I get a great, unique idea from a rookie writer, I’ll let him or her write the article knowing I’ll end up doing a lot of editing to make it usable. I like helping new writers, and they are so grateful.

by Pat Dennis

I first became aware of the waif-like woman with the warm, big eyes at Once Upon a Crime Mystery Bookstore. Theresa Weir was one of 50 or so authors scheduled for the annual Write of Spring daylong book signing. When I shook her hand, she introduced herself as “Anne Frasier.” Embarrassed, I mumbled that I hadn’t read any of her novels. Her subsequent laughter made me feel so welcomed.  I immediately purchased one of her books. After reading her thriller Hush, I decided to read all of this author’s work—a daunting task because Anne Frasier’s real name is Theresa Weir.

Theresa Weir/Anne Frasier is the best-selling author of 19 books in multiple genres, including suspense, mystery, thriller, romantic suspense, and paranormal. Theresa was born into a blue-collar family and when divorce hit she grew up in poverty. After high school, she worked as a waitress, then at the Levi Strauss factory and ended up tending bar in rural Illinois. There she met an apple farmer and three months later, they were married. After moving to the farm, Theresa, a natural-born storyteller, decided to write a novel. At the time, she was so unaware of the writing process she didn’t know if a manuscript should be single- or double-spaced, or what she should do with the book once she finished it. A year later she mailed her manuscript to the address of a publisher she’d found inside a book. As happens with most novice writers, her manuscript was sent back with a rejection notice. She sat down, rewrote the story, and mailed it off again and again. Three years later, the cult phenomenon Amazon Lily was published.

The McKnight Artist Fellowships turn 30 this year. McKnight Fellowships for Writers have been administered by the Loft for all of those years. The fellowships allow writers to devote time to their craft. The Fellowships for Writers guidelines are posted for the next round of winners.

In reflecting on the success of writers and this anniversary, the View asked a recent judge and two winners of McKnight fellowships what the judging/being judged process is all about. Bernard Cooper‘s and John Reimringer‘s responses are below. You read Wang Ping’s answer last week.

Now you, gentle reader, can see the ins and outs and be inspired to apply, apply, apply. All the best to you. –Ed.

Here are the questions answered by Bernard Cooper and John Reimringer. 

• Do you get into a certain mind-set as a judge?
• How do you choose winners? What is your system?
• What influences your decisions? (One judge in the Loft’s history of contests encouraged          people to keep applying. She intimated that what applicants can’t know is the state of mind and emotion the judge is in. Did she just have a fight with her partner? Did her child fall ill? Judges have normal lives, too, and just because you got a “no” this time . . .)
• As teachers, you’ve all had the “OMG, this is great/has potential” moment when you’re reading a student’s work. What do you say/not say to that person?
• What do you wish someone had said/not said to you in your early writing days?
• Why keep applying? Is math, strategy involved?
• Are some people more likely than others to want their work judged? How do you get to that point? Is it a personality trait?

And Bernard Cooper says:

by Wang Ping

The first time I applied for a literary grant was an accident. That morning in 1992, Lewis Warsh, a New York school poet, said he was going to the post office to mail the NEA application. “What’s that?” I asked. He was amazed I’d never heard of it.

“Come on, Lewis,” I laughed. “I’m new in America, and new to the poetry world.”

Lewis explained that NEA stood for National Endowment for the Arts, that every year it gave $20,000 to artists, musicians, poets, and writers.

“That’s a humongous amount of money. What do you do with it?”

He laughed. “Well, you can stop working yourself to the bone for a year or two and concentrate on your writing.”

My eyes opened wide. I had come to America with $26 in my pocket, and I’d been working several jobs at the same time, but my income had never surpassed $10,000. I wouldn’t even know what to do with the money if I got it. But of course I wouldn’t get it, even if I had the nerve to apply.

In the coming weeks, A View from the Loft will be rife with articles by people who have dared to enter writing competitions, won writing awards, and have been on the other side of competitions as judges. All of these stories serve to bolster you in your quest to be recognized for your craft. You may be the next McKnight Artist Fellowship for Writers winner. You may be the next AWP Award winner. The stories in the View prove that, as Bryan Thao Worra says, it’s possible. Write now. ~Ed.

by Bryan Thao Worra

It’s possible.

If I were going to leave you with any words of advice or encouragement as a writer, I think it all boils down to these simple words: It’s possible.

I’ve been writing for most of my life, with all the ups and downs that go with that path. This year it’s been 20 years since I submitted to my first literary journal and literary contest on my college campus in Ohio. I’d done it for many reasons: partly on a whim, a bit of randomness to break up some after-class boredom, and ultimately for the challenge. You can imagine my delight upon getting a letter letting me know I’d won. I had a smile for the rest of the day, and it was a great feeling to be recognized for my writing.

From that day forward, I always sent things to my campus literary journal and to the literary competitions. And every time I sent my best, but calmed myself with an understanding that this wasn’t my first poem, nor would it be my last; that every judge’s tastes might be different in any given year.