Today is the opening of the call for submissions for the very first official Storyknife Writers Residency which will take place during the month of September. On ten acres of view property just outside Homer, Alaska, Storyknife will be one of the very few residencies for women writers in the English-speaking world. Eventually, the facility will include six private cabins, a main house, and a garden. Currently, one fully-equipped writers’ cabin has been built with a stunning view overlooking Cook Inlet, Mount Iliamma, Mount Douglas, and Mount Augustine.
Starting today, women writers over 21 years of age can apply for a September residency in the Storyknife cabin. This residency will can be 2-4 weeks, and for each week she is in residency, the inaugural Fellow will receive a $250 stipend to cover food and transportation costs. The inaugural fellow will need a vehicle and will be responsible for cooking most of her own meals. The residency is about eight miles from the town of Homer, Alaska.
Applications will be accepted until May 15 at Submittable. There is a $25 application fee. Jurying will be done by a committee of writers and is a blind process to ensure fairness.
Please feel free to email me at if you have any questions about the residency or the submission process. I am so very very excited that we are on our way.
If you are not interested in applying for the residency, but are interested in supporting the building of the entire Storyknife Writers Residency and want to know more about what that looks like, read more about it here and donate using that big yellow button on the right side of the page.
We’re pretty excited about this. Hope you are as well!
The first official Storyknife Writers Residency will be awarded this spring for a residency during the month of September. On ten acres of view property just outside Homer, Alaska, Storyknife will be one of the very few residencies for women writers in the English-speaking world. Eventually, the facility will include six private cabins, a main house, and a garden. Currently, one fully-equipped writer’s cabin has been built with a stunning view overlooking Cook Inlet, Mount Iliamma, Mount Douglas, and Mount Augustine
Starting on April 15, women writers over 21 years of age will be able to apply for a September residency in the Storyknife cabin. This residency will can be 2-4 weeks, and for each week she is in residency, the inaugural fellow will receive a $250 stipend to cover food and transportation costs. Applications will be accepted starting on April 15 until May 15. The application will be open HERE on April 15.
The vision of award-winning novelist Dana Stabenow, Storyknife seeks to support women writers by providing uninterrupted time for development of their craft. In 1989, Stabenow was awarded a residency at Hedgebrook, a writers retreat for women on Whidbey Island in Washington. The profound impact of that residency, and the fact that Hedgebrook receives many more applications that they have spots to host writers, has inspired her to develop such an opportunity for women writers on property outside of Homer, Alaska.
Storyknife Writers Retreat is a registered 501(c)3.
Everyone, meet Erin Coughlin Hollowell, Storyknife’s new executive director! Poet by day, non-profit maven the rest of the time, she’s come on board to help get this party started. But first, get to know her a little.
I’m a poet all the way out at the end of the road that has been working on and off for Alaskan arts nonprofits for the last fifteen years. My poetry collection Pause, Travelerwas published by Boreal Books, an imprint of Red Hen Press, in 2013, and my new collection Every Atom is forthcoming from the same press in 2018. I was the Rona Jaffe Scholarship winner for poetry at the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference in 2010 and a 2013 recipient of a Rasmuson Foundation Fellowship and the Connie Boochever Award. I was lucky enough to be one of the inaugural recipients of the Alaska Literary Award in 2014. I’ve attended residencies at the Vermont Studio Center and the Willapa Bay AiR, and understand completely how important a writers’ residency is for fostering creative work and faith in your writing. I can’t wait to make the same magic happen for other writers.
Dana again–We’ll have a Big Reveal later this week which will showcase all the goodness Erin’s been up to. Stay tuned!
[My remarks at Anchorage Rotary yesterday, as follows, and my thanks to Jon Deisher for making it happen.]
I have to start with a story, because you know that’s what I do. A guy walks into a bookstore, the Poisoned Pen in Scottsdale, Arizona. He tells the owner, Barbara Peters, that he left his book on the plane, and it was really good and he wants to finish it. Great, she says, thinking instant sale, what was the title? He can’t remember. Who was the author? He can’t remember that either. What was the story about? Well, it was a mystery. Finally she says to him, can you remember anything at all about this book that you loved and can’t wait to finish? Well, the cover was red.
This is my job. I’m the one who wrote the book the only distinctive thing about which this guy can remember is the color of the cover.
The ending of the story? She found the book for him.
Writing is a solitary and much misunderstood profession, largely I think because we have a job that keeps us locked alone in a room with a computer. No one sees us working so no one ever believes we really do work. To this day, old friends will come up to me and say, “Great to see you! Are you still writing?” At the Homer airport as I was waiting to board the plane to Anchorage to give this presentation, Jeff, seen elsewhere on this website as the guy who did the initial dirtwork on the Storyknife lot, came up to me and said, “Dana! Great to see you! Are you still writing books?”
Well, yeah, Jeff, that’s how we both get paid. We writers are soooo misunderstood.
The first thing my writing ever earned me wasn’t a book contract, it wasn’t a royalty payment, and it wasn’t a spot on the New York Times bestseller list. No, the first thing my writing ever earned me was a residency at Hedgebrook, the only retreat for women writers in the world, on Whidbey Island in Puget Sound. For two glorious weeks, every day I wrote in my cabin all day long, and in the evenings I joined my fellow writers in residence at dinner in the main house. The first evening I got up to help clear the table, Nancy Skinner Nordhoff, the angel who built Hedgebrook barked at me, “Sit DOWN.” And then she smiled and said, “You’ve already done your work for the day.”
Hedgebrook was the first place anyone ever acted around me like writing was a real job. Also, Hedgebrook taught me that I wasn’t the only person alive who was having trouble getting published, and who thought that adverbs were important. My stay at Hedgebrook was then and remains today the most valuable experience I’ve ever had as a writer.
And three months later I signed my first publishing contract.
I was one of Hedgebrook’s first residents when it opened back in 1989. Then, it was trying desperately to become known. Now, today, it can have as many as 1400 applications for the 40 spaces available in a six-month semester. They are, as you might imagine, very excited about Storyknife as an alternative possibility for their overflow.
Storyknife will consist of six cabins and a main house on four acres of view property five miles outside of Homer. The writers will spend their days at work in the cabins and gather each evening for dinner and shop talk at the main house. Their stays will be anywhere from two weeks to two months, with everything provided. All they have to do is get themselves to Anchorage.
Storyknife will have two full-time employees, the executive director and the manager/chef. All other services will be local contract hire, housekeeping, groundskeeping, and repairs and maintenance. There will be a selection committee of three, at first, although in the future I want Storyknife to follow Hedgebrook’s example and use its alumnae as a first-level selection committee, which of course we can’t do until we have some alumnae. There is of course a board of directors, which includes Catherine Stevens and Jeannie Penney. I tried to get Cathy Rasmuson but she’s determined to stay retired, although she did promise to host a fund-raising event and I’m going to hold her to it. She has also been a generous contributor, even before we were 501c3, and I only wish she and Ed were here to hear me say that.
I am president of Storyknife and will remain so for the first three to five years of its existence, after which I will become a board member emeritus. One of the most valuable pieces of advice I ever got about Storyknife specifically and about running nonprofits in general I got from Dennis McMillan of Foraker. He said that having the same people run the same organization for too long led to mission fatigue, and my plan is to build a nonprofit that outlasts me.
Storyknife is going to cost about $1 million to build, and as near as I can figure it today, with admittedly no operational history to use for data, $3 to $5 million to endow. The land is paid for, it’s been cleared, it perks, it is situated miraculously in a good water area, something for which the south Kenai is not particularly well known, and I have a builder who is ready to go. You should know, too, that I have created a trust whereby all of my property, real and intellectual, which includes all the rights to all of my books, goes to Storyknife.
In conclusion. I think it’s a legitimate question to ask why in the world I want to do this. I’ve written 32 novels, I’m working on my 33rd, I have plans for another dozen in the works. Isn’t a shelf full of books, and Edgar and Nero awards, and the Governor’s Arts Award for Artist of the Year, and the Woman of Achievement Award from the Alaska YWCA, not to mention a good living, isn’t that enough for one lifetime?
My aunt died in December. She was 85 years old. She raised four kids, none of whom turned out to be drug dealers or serial killers. I said that to her once and she laughed and said, “So we’re not setting the bar very high.” I still think it’s a pretty good bar myself. But her passing marks the end of a generation, the generation that built this state. My aunt worked for Mudhole Smith when he opened up the Kennecott Mine to tourism. My father came to Alaska on a Liberty ship in World War II, worked his way up to master mechanic, and led a Cat train to the Rampart Dam site on the Yukon River in 1957. My uncle was working on the Million Dollar Bridge outside of Cordova when the Alaska Earthquake hit in 1964. My mother was one of the first if not the first woman deckhand on a fish tender in Cook Inlet in the 1960s.
They’re all gone now, along with Ted, and Jay, and Elmer, and almost all of the other giants who built this state. Compared to that, a shelf full of books doesn’t seem like near enough. Storyknife is, I guess, my attempt to achieve some kind of parity. Although I’ll never manage it.
There is also this. Littera scripta manet. The written word survives. If someone hadn’t had the bright idea to write down Homer’s words three thousand years ago, we wouldn’t still be studying the Iliad and the Odyssey in high school. There is a lifestyle going on here in Alaska today that will not survive the people living it. Maybe three thousand years from now, a high school English class will be reading the works of a writer nourished and encouraged by her stay at Storyknife, and will learn thereby who we were. It’s one version of immortality, anyway.
Yes, I returned from the second Alaska Women’s Summit in Anchorage to find The Letter in Storyknife’s mailbox, complete with EIN and DLN and ID and every number we need to make us tax deductible.
The takeaway here is: From April 2, 2013, every dime anyone gives or gave Storyknife is tax deductible.
Now I can start asking people for money. Rejoice!! I am.
In the meantime, my friends Jason and Barbi have done heroic work all summer long in clearing trees from the Storyknife property, which they harvested for firewood. As soon as there is snow on the ground (or as soon as it has rained for long enough), Todd of K Martin Construction will be back to pull and burn stumps.
[Photos are taken from Storyknife. This is what our writers will see when they look up from their keyboards.]
So, not a lot of activity to report. Chiefly, we have yet to receive word from the IRS about our 501c3 status, and we can’t begin serious fund-raising until we have it.
To recap, we applied last February. In April they asked us for an additional document, which we provided, which they took as an opportunity to reset our application at zero, of which they informed us in May.
We called a few times between May and September, at which times they informed us they’ve been slammed with applications because of the recession, they haven’t been able to fill vacant positions because of the sequester, and they spent the summer traipsing back and forth to Capitol Hill, there to testify before Congress on their 501c4 problem. Please do note the difference in number from ours, but of course that backed everything up all across the board. Congress can be labor intensive.
So our vice president, Pati Crofut, called them in September to ask for an update. We were at the intermediate stage in the process, she was told, and call back in a month.
When we called back, the government was shut down. The IRS wasn’t even answering their phones. So when they reopened for business we called and asked for an official letter letting us know where we were. They were obligated to send us that letter within 30 days. That was in November. We’re still waiting.
Admit it. If I wrote this in a book, you wouldn’t believe it.
Actually, after the hullabaloo of the rollout the delay hasn’t been a bad thing. Everyone on our board has had one of those years, fires, moving, new twin grand-daughters, falling off a ladder and being incapacitated for a month.
It’s a brand new year, and we’ll be certified for 501c3 before too long, I hope, and when we are, the fireworks will go up here on storyknife.org. Our grateful thanks to everyone who gave to us regardless last year. Stay tuned!
Listen to author Susan Wingate interview me about Storyknife by clicking on the link below. It was a fun conversation. It’s always nice to talk to another author, you never have to explain your references.
You’ll recognize Storyknife builder Scott Bauer on the left, and that’s Jeff Middleton on the digger. They’re looking for water problems where we want to build and not finding any, yay!
These are baby steps, as we have yet to begin serious fund-raising, mostly because we haven’t received our 501(c)(3) certification from the IRS yet. As I’m sure you’ve noticed the IRS is currently in a bit of a kerfuffle and I fear it is slowing everything down.
But forward, anyway! I’m chipping away at the construction as I can afford it. The water and sewer engineering is going to cost about $6000, and I’m already into this for about $15,000+ (need to add that up at some point). Never let it be said I don’t put my money where my mouth is.