Just a reminder, if you didn’t win this writing contest it doesn’t mean:
You are a writer if you choose to be one. You are good because you practice by writing hundreds of pieces like the one you submitted to this contest. And your words are powerful things.
The Pulitzer Prize for fiction, as you probably know, was not awarded this year. The fiction panel nominated three books from a reading list of 300. (Can you imagine reading 300 books in a year?)
However, the Pulitzer board didn’t pick any of them. And we don’t know why. Were they not good enough? Were they not American enough? We don’t know. All we know is the Pulitzer Prize for fiction wasn’t awarded this year.
However, Michael Cunningham’s article on how the three Pulitzer nominees were chosen is a fascinating guide for how to angle for the Pulitzer.
If you want to win the Pulitzer, here’s how in five (not-so) easy steps…
There’s a class of people being formed today who make their living from the internet, giving them freedom to travel around the world, sometimes with their whole family. What would their life be like? What would be the specific challenges of their lifestyle?
Write about Internet Nomads.
Write for fifteen minutes, and when you’re finished, post your practice in the comments section.
Today is the last day to enter July’s Show Off Writing Contest. We’re looking forward to reading your work!
When John Hopkins’ researchers examined jazz pianists’ brains while they improvised, they found something surprising. The jazz musicians were able to turn off the part of their brain called the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex, which scientists believe powers self-control and keeps us from doing things that would appear strange or dangerous. The musicians also activated the medial prefrontal cortex, which is associated with individuality.
As Jonah Lehrer says, they were able to “inhibit their inhibitions” and “channel their artistic identity.”
In 2009, I was sitting Kenya in my friend’s yard, watching the chickens chase each other and drinking Kenyan chai, a strange, delicious tea that contains nicotine instead of caffeine, when I made a decision:
It was time to write the novel I’d long been avoiding.
I only had a tiny netbook computer, whose screen was about the size of my hand, but fueled by about ten cups of tea a day, I started writing my novel. One-thousand words turned into five, five-thousand words turned into ten.
Then, 15,000 words into the novel I got stuck, and everything fell apart. The novel had major structural flaws, the tea was giving me… digestive problems, and soon, I had to leave Kenya for Uganda, effectively ending my writing. Dozens of hours of work were wasted.
Or were they?
