How I Built This Book: #25 The Nature of Grants and what goes bump in their nights — Part 1

I spent 22 years in research and understood how the wheels of research go round and round, greased by grants. I worked with scientists who could write grants in their sleep; having also been a part of that writing process, I decided to explore grants to fund my book.

At the time, I was living in Portland, Oregon. I found the “go to” arts funding agency, met with the grant manager, filled out the forms, and submitted my application.

A few months later, I was notified that I was not a grant recipient. I’m not one to give up, so at the next funding cycle, I applied again, and received another rejection. The agency offered a follow up meeting, so applicants understood why their application had been rejected; I availed myself of this learning opportunity.

The grant manager had a file for my grant on her desk and read what the reviewer had written: “There’s only one Dr. Seuss.”

I thought I was in a Theatre of the Absurd play.

I thought the reviewer’s remark narrow-minded.

I thought a one-sentence review was insufficient and showed a lack of knowledge and a few other things.

But it made me think. Yes, my book was written in anapestic tetrameter, the same as many of Dr. Seuss’s books. Did the reviewer believe that only Dr. Seuss was capable of writing in this meter? If they had done their research, they would have discovered the literary lights who also wrote in this meter, not to mention rapper Eminem in this century. Had the reviewer thought I dissed their childhood experience of Dr. Seuss? Did the reviewer have a right to be a reviewer? What were their credentials? I’ll address this in Part 2.

A few months after the second rejection, I discovered that reviewers for this agency were volunteers. That was a rude awakening.

This disheartening experience was the fork in the road, and a warning fraught with dangers which I took seriously.

My conclusion, and the writing on the wall that I saw at that fork? Narrow minds don’t support good books.

Were the reviewers niche thinkers? Could they not think outside the box? Were they afraid to think outside the box? I wore myself out with questions in an unhealthy orbit of doubt about the book I had written.

After I calmed down, or maybe it was while I was in the eye of this existential hurricane — the decision became clear: Narrow minds don’t support good books. I had to indie publish.

END OF PART 1