Friends of Writers

friendsofwriterslogoFriends of Writers, a not-for profit 501(c)(3) organization, enriches American poetry and fiction by cultivating new and vital literary voices. We do this by raising funds to support students, alumni and faculty of our partner, the Warren Wilson College MFA Program for Writers. The MFA Program pioneered a model of low-residency study based on three core values: community, rigor, and diversity. Community provides support for the individual writer; rigor encourages that individual’s finest work; and diversity—in aesthetic, ethnicity, gender, age, occupational, geographic, and economic background—ensures that American writing reflects the entire nation.

Friends of Writers was established in 1991 as an independent non-profit organization. It was begun by faculty and alumni of the Warren Wilson College MFA Program for the immediate purpose of raising scholarship funds. In addition to providing scholarships for WWC MFA students, it provides scholarships to the alumni conference, as well as paying other costs associated with the alumni conference. In recent years, anonymous donors have established additional funds for current students, alumni, and faculty.

Also in recent years, the MFA Program faculty have produced seven writing anthologies. The editors and all contributors to those volumes donated 100% of each book’s advance and royalties to Friends of Writers’ scholarship funds; when necessary, they have also paid for reprint permissions, so Friends incurred not a single penny of expense to produce the books.

The only costs for Friends of Writers are essential legal and accounting fees. There is no office, no paid staff. Board members donate their time, the cost of travel to semi-annual meetings, and lodging and meal expenses. All donations flow directly into the scholarships to support our literary community.


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Nathan Poole Awarded the 2014-15 Joan Beebe Fellowship

Posted by on Apr 18, 2014 in Alumni News | 0 comments

nathanpooleCongratulations to Nathan Poole (Fiction, 2011), who has been selected as the 17th recipient of the Joan Beebe Teaching Fellowship at Warren Wilson College.

The recipient of the 2012 Narrative Prize and the 2013 Mary McCarthy Prize, Nathan is currently a Milton Fellow in Seattle, teaching at Pacific Lutheran University.  His debut story collection, Father, Brother, Keeper, will be published by Sarabande in 2015.

Undergraduate Creative Writing Director Catherine Reid says that Nathan established a ready rapport with WWC students. “Not only did he impress with his knowledge of literary technique, Nathan connected with students around the value of meaningful work, which suggested a deep and intuitive understanding of the ways our creative writing classrooms are enhanced by all they learn on their crews. We couldn’t ask for a better fit.”

Instituted in 1997, the Beebe is one-year teaching fellowship at WWC, open only to alumni of the MFA Program for Writers. The Beebe Fellow teaches five courses in the undergraduate creative writing program, supervises the group of undergraduates who attend the January MFA residency, assists with the undergraduate literary magazine, and generally takes part in the life of the College. Application guidelines are posted on the program website and on the Friends of Writers blog each September for the next academic year’s fellowship.

Daniel Tobin Featured on Poetry Daily

Posted by on Apr 18, 2014 in Faculty Updates | 0 comments

Two poems from faculty member Daniel Tobin’s new book The Net are featured on Poetry Daily for Friday, April 18, 2014:


Bright grit, pellet, bead of summeriest bronze
Broken off the string of a furled necklace,
Pearl of my anger’s petrifying slough,
I loaded the like of it one by one
One afternoon into the barrel’s craw,
Then went for those boys and their mocking names
With my father’s tree-target gun, my aim
Honed to the moment when the pupil narrows—

Continue reading online. 


Rodney Jones featured on The Kenyon Review’s Weekend Reads

Posted by on Apr 17, 2014 in Faculty Updates | 0 comments

A poem by faculty member Rodney Jones appears online as a part of Kenyon Review‘s Weekend Reads:

The Art of Heaven


In the middle of my life I came to a dark wood,
the smell of barbecue, kids running in the yards.
Not deep depression. The nice Hell of suburbs.
Speed bumps. The way things aren’t quite paradise.
Nights I read Speer’s Inside the Third Reich. He made
Hitler so amiable. It seemed important to see that.
There had been a murder in town. The victim
was Lucia’s student, a naturalist and promising poet.

Continue reading online at The Kenyon Review.

“The World Beyond the Glass: A New Interview with Mary Szybist”

Posted by on Apr 16, 2014 in Faculty Updates | 0 comments

A new interview with faculty member Mary Szybist appears online in The Paris Review:

Alex Dueben: Incarnadine deals with the Annunciation—the visitation of Mary by the angel Gabriel, who tells her that she will have God’s son—and the implications and meaning of such an event. It’s an encounter between the human and something beyond human understanding. Your book is an attempt to describe the indescribable through poetry—which is something that prayer can do, also.

Mary Szybist: Prayer is one way to do this—and yes, I have thought about the connections between poetry and prayer for a long time, and sometimes I am even tempted to believe that they are similar engagements. When I was young, I reached a point where I found myself unable to pray. I was devastated by it. I missed being able to say words in my head that I believed could be heard by a being, a consciousness outside me. That is when I turned to poetry.

I have always been attracted to apostrophe, perhaps because of its resemblance to prayer. A voice reaches out to something beyond itself that cannot answer it. I find that moving in part because it enacts what is true of all address and communication on some level—it cannot fully be heard, understood, or answered. Still, some kinds of articulations can get us closer to such connections—connections between very different consciousnesses—and I think the linguistic ranges in poetry can enable that.

Continue reading the rest of the interview online at The Paris Review.

“Adrift” by Natalie Serber

Posted by on Apr 15, 2014 in Alumni News | 0 comments

A new essay by alumna Natalie Serber (fiction, ’05) appears online at The Rumpus:


“What a wonderful life I’ve had, if only I’d realized it sooner.”   ~Colette

I’d been screwing around in community college for two years—signing up for classes, quitting midway—retaking the same classes.  It took me three attempts to complete Cultural Anthropology, a class I loved.  My best friend and I were renting a tiny clapboard house 5 blocks from the beach.  Blue hydrangeas flanked our front door.  Tapestry bedspreads billowed from the ceilings. Matisse posters crowded the walls.  We’d bought a set of dishes at K-Mart and a cast iron pan at the flea market.  I worked as an aerobic instructor and as a hostess at Golden West Pancakes.  I made ends meet by collecting food stamps which we once used to throw an extravagant “C” dinner party—crab, cookies, and Chablis—for the rest of that month we survived on top ramen.  I had no five-year plan, no dogged ambition.  I enjoyed writing, stories mostly.  I imagined I’d someday transfer to a university, become an elementary school teacher like my mom.  I liked kids, I liked the idea of college, and nothing else tugged at me.  But, in order for that low-grade ambition to take root, I would actually have to develop some drive beyond throwing a “D” party—dogs, daiquiris, and ding-dongs.

To further unmoor my already free-floating existence, I fell in love.  J was tan, handsome and kind.  He was a sailor with his own business and his own boat and a smart golden retriever who balanced milkbones on her nose and could bark her name, Ru-by.  He played the tuba(!), which was quirky and adorable.  He sold a little pot on the side, which meant there was a party wherever he went.  He was also thirteen years older than me.  He was calm and stable—things my erratic childhood lacked.  You see, by the time I was thirteen, my mother and I had moved ten times.  We’d lived in four cities. I went to five elementary schools.  With J, I felt rooted and that was intoxicating for nineteen-year-old me.  J took me sailing.  He took me to nice restaurants.  We lingered in bed on Sunday mornings watching cooking shows and then went to the market to buy the ingredients for Shrimp Vera Cruz.  He drove me past the sweet house he’d lived in with his ex-wife.  It was plum colored with a walnut tree in front and a picket fence.  I harbored vague wishes of someday living in a cozy house with J and his wonderful dog.

Read more online at The Rumpus.

Alumni Conference Scholarship Deadline Extended

Posted by on Apr 15, 2014 in Alumni News | 0 comments

As scholarships for this year’s Alumni Writing Conference remain available, the deadline for names to be entered in the drawing has been extended to midnight, Monday, April 21. Those who have been awarded scholarships in the last three years are also invited to enter provisional requests, which will be considered should slots remain as of that deadline. All requests must be submitted electronically to the Conference Coordinator, with contact information available at

An Interview with Matthew Zanoni Muller

Posted by on Apr 14, 2014 in Alumni News | 0 comments

An interview with alumnus Matthew Zanoni Muller (fiction, ’10) about his story “Presence” appears online at NANO Fiction:

Will McCarry: Your piece “Presence” appears in our most recent issue of NANOFiction, 7.1. It’s a really great look at a day in the mundane life of an old woman who has lost her husband. I found it easy to relate to because everyone at some point in their life has known a lonely old person. Does this piece draws from someone you’ve known in real life, or if it is completely fictionalized?

Matthew Müller: I do not know the old woman in this story though I have seen her. She lives on a road near where I work during the summers. The description of her trailer and property are all relatively faithful to the actual place where she lives. I noticed her because I became interested in something I began to notice on my drives to and from work or to pick up supplies (I paint houses during the summer). It was that people would sit out in front of their houses to watch the traffic going by just to be close to the action, no matter how limited. There was a couple who set up lawn chairs in their driveway and would park themselves there with a cooler. Other times I’d see people out on their porches or front lawns, just sitting and watching. I know this seems pretty obvious and normal, but what I began to think about was how people in general still want to be connected to the life that’s going on around them outside of their home, some version of the life of their community. I think that television has to some extent taken this away from us. We watch shows about people we do not know, and our community with these people takes place on a much larger national scale. In essence, anyone, anywhere in the country can tune in and see these same people. What is more difficult nowadays, I believe, is to get closer to a sense of connectedness or relationship with the people that actually live near us and in a sense share our lives. This is something that television can’t replace, so people will still come and sit in their driveways, their front lawns, or their porches. Her little place of connection was to my mind one of the saddest ones. She was down a slight incline inside of this glassed-in porch, a mud room really, where she had to look up at the road. But this was still better than being cooped up or hidden somewhere in her kitchen or shadowy living room.

Listen to a recording of “Presence” and finish reading the interview online at NANO Fiction.

“Berenice’s Hair” by Peggy Shinner

Posted by on Apr 13, 2014 in Alumni News | 1 comment

A new essay by alumna Peggy Shinner (fiction, ’94) appears online in BOMB Magazine: 

Berenice’s Hair

The Tantrics said the forces of creation and destruction lay in the binding and unbinding of a woman’s hair. The Syrians said a woman who combed her hair on the Eve of Holy Sunday consorted with werewolves. The Slavs said the vili, or female spirits, hid in the water and made rain by combing their hair. The Scots said women should refrain from combing their hair at night when their brothers were at sea, because that could raise a storm and sink the boats. In Laos, the wife of an elephant hunter was forbidden to cut her hair in order not to sever the ropes restraining the elephant. The Navajo prohibited a woman from washing her hair while her husband was out hunting lest he come home empty-handed. The Punjabi said a woman should not wash her hair on Thursday or Sunday, because “the house would lose money and people would tell us lies.” The Romans said that strands of a woman’s hair made fine strings for bows against the Gauls. Berenice, wife of Egyptian king Ptolemy III, made an offering of her hair to Aphrodite, for her husband’s safe return from war. Upon his homecoming, her hair appeared in the sky as the constellation Coma Berenice, Berenice’s Hair. One of the stars is named Al Dafirah, “the curl.”

Continue reading online at BOMB Magazine. 

“Guts, Gleam” by Rose McLarney

Posted by on Apr 12, 2014 in Alumni News | 0 comments

A new poem by alumna Rose McLarney (poetry, ’10) appears online in Valparaiso Poetry Review:

Guts, Gleam

Gutting the deer, down among the blasts
of fallen leaves, golden and red against
the gray of winter pending, and the red,
of course, of blood, and the more various
shades of insides—the yellows and purples
and pure, resistant whites you don’t think of
until you’re doing the work—is not what
strummed, beat in, certainly not what
set to singing, my senses.

Finish reading online.

New Poetry by Gabrielle Calvocoressi

Posted by on Apr 11, 2014 in Faculty Updates | 0 comments

New work by faculty member Gabrielle Calvocoressi appears in print and online in the “Poetry at the End of the World” themed podcast from Poetry Magazine:

Captain Lovell ["Dad calls her the Dowager but I call her Aunt G."]

Dad calls her the Dowager but I call her Aunt G.
Aunt G. at the Polo Lounge. Aunt G. drinking gimlets
by the pool. Aunt G. asking about Babe even
though she’s the only one who sees her that much
anymore. She wears ten rings. Seven on her
right hand, which Dad calls the Seven Stars.
They make the glass seem like it’s going to crack.
Continue reading online at Poetry, and listen to the full podcast here.