![]() ![]() Poets, prose writers, and literary translators must apply to their desired category by November 1, 2016.ģ. prior to the application deadline and maintain your residency throughout the duration of the grant. North Carolina Arts Council – Writers’ FellowshipĮvery two years, fellowships in the amount of $10,000 are available to fund the artistic work of writers residing in North Carolina. When you are ready to go, you can submit a synopsis of your project, along with your application by August 1, 2016.Ģ. ![]() The only catch is that you must obtain an individual or business to endorse your project. Only poets and prose writers residing in the sponsored counties are eligible to apply. Grants up to $2,500 are offered to women and transgender writers in the Delaware Valley region to support their artistic projects. Leeway Foundation – Art and Change Grants That’s when organizations throw you a lifesaver of a writing grant, so you can pursue your passion while also saving your budget.īelow are 23 great grants for writers to help you fund your writing project.ġ. So when you find yourself weighed down by a time-consuming writing project, your passion for the written word alone might not get you off the couch. The reality of filling up our piggy banks just slips into the back of our minds. Only how? Let’s face it: writing may be feel absolutely liberating, but it’s not a money-making machine most writers fulfill their dreams because they can’t think about doing anything else. ![]() And she had destroyed herself, crushed by an insult that had appalled and amazed that childish soul, had smirched that angel purity with unmerited disgrace and torn from her a last scream of despair, unheeded and brutally disregarded, on a dark night in the cold and wet while the wind howled 23 Gold-Mine Grants for Writers ‹ Back to blogĪs writers with a whopping-size project in our lap, sometimes we need to get the green before we can make the green. She was only fourteen, but her heart was broken. Svidrigaïlov knew that girl there was no holy image, no burning candle beside the coffin no sound of prayers: the girl had drowned herself. The stern and already rigid profile of her face looked as though chiselled of marble too, and the smile on her pale lips was full of an immense unchildish misery and sorrowful appeal. But her loose fair hair was wet there was a wreath of roses on her head. Among the flowers lay a girl in a white muslin dress, with her arms crossed and pressed on her bosom, as though carved out of marble. ![]() The coffin was covered with white silk and edged with a thick white frill wreaths of flowers surrounded it on all sides. The birds were chirruping under the window, and in the middle of the room, on a table covered with a white satin shroud, stood a coffin. The floors were strewn with freshly-cut fragrant hay, the windows were open, a fresh, cool, light air came into the room. He was reluctant to move away from them, but he went up the stairs and came into a large, high drawing-room and again everywhere-at the windows, the doors on to the balcony, and on the balcony itself-were flowers. He noticed particularly in the windows nosegays of tender, white, heavily fragrant narcissus bending over their bright, green, thick long stalks. A light, cool staircase, carpeted with rich rugs, was decorated with rare plants in china pots. A fine, sumptuous country cottage in the English taste overgrown with fragrant flowers, with flower beds going round the house the porch, wreathed in climbers, was surrounded with beds of roses. He kept dwelling on images of flowers, he fancied a charming flower garden, a bright, warm, almost hot day, a holiday-Trinity day. Perhaps the cold, or the dampness, or the dark, or the wind that howled under the window and tossed the trees roused a sort of persistent craving for the fantastic. But one image rose after another, incoherent scraps of thought without beginning or end passed through his mind. He was not thinking of anything and did not want to think. There was a cold damp draught from the window, however without getting up he drew the blanket over him and wrapped himself in it. “It’s better not to sleep at all,” he decided. He got up and sat on the edge of the bedstead with his back to the window. ![]()
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