Yesterday, I was filled with contradictory feelings. I sent out all of the invitations, waitlist notifications, and rejections letters for the 2023 Storyknife season. I knew that there would be excitement from those invited and even those waitlisted, but that there would be an even longer list of those who were bitterly disappointed.
For everyone who is disappointed, please know that I understand, that I have been exactly where you are. Every adjudicator this year expressed to me how difficult the decisions were, how absolutely worthy every applicant was. Several of the heroic women writers who served on the adjudication committee expressed deep sorrow that they had to make tough decisions. They join me in wishing that we had a spot for every woman who applied.
This is the first year that I haven’t read every applicant’s writing sample. At 625 applicants, it just became more than I could sustain. But I trust in the adjudication panel, made up entirely of Storyknife writers from the previous six years, and I know that they took their work seriously. I did, however, read every applicant’s answers to the questions. And I know that each of you touched my heart. Each of you have writing projects that need to be in the world and lives that are complicated and often beautiful.
To all of the folks who have been so generous in supporting Storyknife, thank you. Without you, Storyknife couldn’t open its doors for any women writers. You are the ones that make all of this possible.
And once again, I want everyone who applied to know that at Storyknife, we’re rooting for you. We’re your fans. If you don’t have an opportunity to come to Storyknife in 2023, we hope that you’ll find your way to the desk to keep putting your words down on paper, that you know how important your story is for this battered world.
You’re worth it. Your writing is worth it. We have faith in you.
take care and stay safe,
Erin
Thank you so much for caring, Erin – This has been a dream of mine ever since Storyknife opened, and I was thrilled to be waitlisted last year, even though an opening never appeared. At age 76, I am not going to apply again. However, I hope to visit Homer and to stand on your grounds for a few minutes one day in the near future. My husband died last year, but I am still teaching many classes (about 35-50 annually) on Opportunities for Writers and Growing Deeper Spiritual Roots topics and just had my 18th book published (15 were self-published). I’m also a specialist in Native American Flute work and perform at least once a week in assisted living facilities and for weddings and funerals. I have loved watching Storyknife unfold, opening its heart to all women. I encourage you to hold a space or two for elder women, who will bring much gathered wisdom into your fold. Being rooted in a land of extremes offers amazing energy for emerging creativity. In Spirit, Laura Lee Perkins (Maine and Arizona)