I never win writing contests. Not in middle or high school. Not in college. Not even in my MFA program. (Though years later they did ask me to judge the contest I never won, and I was honored to do so). Even post-MFA, with my first two manuscripts–Delicate Men: Stories, and Californium: A Novel of Punk Rock, Growing Up, and Other Dangerous Things–I entered a few contests and came close with the story collection (getting short-listed twice). And that’s what is great about contests; they give you goals and deadlines (writers need deadlines, especially for big projects), and you know your manuscript will be read with care.
Eventually, both of my first two books found publication in the (for me) more traditional way: Delicate Men through soliciting indie presses on my own and Californium through the imprint of a big New York press solicited by my agent. Yet, I’d argue that having to get them ready for contests was a great way to get them ready for acquisitions editors and literary agents.
So, when my third book, Poser: A Mostly-True Memoir-in-Essays, was ready to shop, did I think things would be any different? Not exactly. I’m a realistic optimist. I thought the fact that I’d published two books might mean I could write a third that could, perhaps, be contest-worthy, but I also know how hard it is to win a contest no matter how great the manuscript it. I tried ot be thoughtful about the contests I entered in terms of who the judges and press were and how my book aligned with that, and when I was a Finalist for the Permafrost Book Prize but didn’t win, I wasn’t shocked or too disappointed. It was affirming that this manuscript was almost good enough to win, and that had me looking at more contests, especially the ones that also give themselves the option of publishing not just the winner but some of the finalists.
That’s what lead me to enter Vine Leaves Press’s 2026 International Voices in Creative Nonfiction Competition (applications are now open for the 2027 competition, by the way). They only guarantee they’ll publish the winner, but the option to publish the finalists is there. After being long-listed, I was pleased. After being short-listed, and therefore a finalist, I was excited but still realistic. Afterall, I don’t win contests. There were five finalists, so a 20% chance I’d win and an 80% chance I would not.
Weeks later, when I received an email informing me I, in fact, did not win, I wasn’t surprised and once again was only a little disappointed. My writing, this book, was once again affirmed. And it’s nice to have your name and book title listed in the company of teriffic authors.
The email kept going, however, which was a surprise. There was this extra bit about how I had finished runner-up, and how much Vine Leaves Press liked Poser, and how they’d very much like to publish it and would be offering me a contract. At that moment, I didn’t know how to feel. I hadn’t been here before. This wonderful, Athens, Greece-based press hadn’t just named me runner-up, they’d just awarded me a silver medal (metaphorically, of course).
And so I didn’t win, and yet I won. My third book, Poser, will be published in February, 2028, by Vine Leaves Press. In the time between now and then, I’ll work with the editing team and, on my own, work on my fourth book, a novel, and fifth book, a story collection. And yes, when the time comes to shop those books, I’ll think about entering some contests, certain I won’t win, and still enter them anyway, because there’s more than one way to be a winner.
was July 5, 2016. In terms of proper premieres, this one had it all:
DikNixon. It’s always a pleasure to go there. But, I’m also glad to be transitioning more and more attention to finishing the next two projects—an essay collection and a novel. The former is close and the latter, who knows, but I like where it’s going so far.
December 15.
which you might think makes sense, one big name writer honoring another. But Denis didn’t discriminate. If you were reading, whether he knew your name or not, he was listening.
trying to come up with a name for their punk band and running through a list of possibilities: Atomic Anarchy, Gone Fission, Second Thoughts, Screaming Mimes, The Variables, Solve for X, Los Punks, and ¿Habla Anarchy?. To my relief, people were laughing in all the right places, including Denis. After the reading, he even had a suggestion for a band name: Dowager Orgy.
allow, and only somewhat near the mark.
Fernando Pessoa never visited the United States, so he never made it to California. At least, not physically. A writer so ahead of his time — post-modernist before there was post-modernism — he surely would have found a novel set in a time and place beyond his own experience attractive. He would have laughed at early eighties So Cal culture (as we all should); he would have delighted in characters who are trying to understand their place in the universe (even if that universe is high school); and he definitely would have liked punk rock (in principle, and maybe in practice as well). And if nothing else, he’d have been intrigued by the cover. It’s a pretty cool cover.
Long before I had a book deal or even an agent for my first novel, Californium, back when it was just a manuscript, I knew, well I believed, it was a book somebody would want some day. So, even then I’d think about that day Californium would be published, and where I’d be.
do with Portugal, or Europe, or anything historical beyond the early eighties punk scene set down amidst California’s growing military industrial complex (in a funny way, I promise). This is the third week of a teaching assignment with Disquiet International and Bluegrass Writers Studio Low-Res MFA program. I committed to it before the pub date was set.
over these past few weeks, I’ve had the pleasure of attending so many other great readings around this historic city—Padgett Powell, Molly Antopol, Maaza Mengiste, John Herrin, Mikhail Iossel, Chanan Tigay, Annie Liontas, Arthur Flowers, Sabina Murray, Afonso Cruz, and National Book Award Winner, Denis Johnson (who I am blatantly name-dropping here because he came to my reading too and laughed at all the right places, which may be the most authentic kind of positive review I could ever hope for).
You know how you sometimes hear those apocryphal stories about writers and writing: Ernest Hemingway’s wife leaving his entire manuscript on a train; Sherwood Anderson writing the bulk of Winesburg, Ohio, in the middle of the night and naked; Alice McDermott basing an uncompleted novel on one of my short stories? Some are completely false (like the thing about Alice McDermott; I just really like her). But some are based in fact and a few of those happen to be completely true.
en: Stories for $5 off (see the link below). Then, you can use that money to buy me a beer or a latte when I sign it for you.
R Dean Johnson 