I’m Kayla. I grew up in a small town with one good library and one loud debate team. So yeah, I like books that start fights at lunch. That’s how I ended up trying the Ayn Rand essay scholarships. I did it three times. I learned a lot. I won once. I also messed up once. Both count.
If you want another firsthand view of the application maze, check out this candid breakdown of the process.
Let me explain.
Which contests I tried (and why)
- Sophomore year: I wrote for the Anthem contest. I didn’t place.
- Junior year: I tried The Fountainhead contest. I became a finalist and got a small cash prize.
- Freshman year of college: I tried Atlas Shrugged. I didn’t place, but I’m still glad I wrote it.
Why did I do it? Two reasons. One, it’s free. Two, the prompts are not fluff. They make you think and then think again. I like that.
If you ever want to see how seasoned Objectivist scholars wrestle with the same themes, browse the archives at Full Context for inspiration.
The actual process (not fancy, just real)
You pick one book. You read it. You choose one prompt. You write an essay with a clear argument. There’s a word limit. They are strict about that. You submit through an online form with your name, school, and your teacher’s info. That’s it.
My deadlines landed in spring, and results came out in summer. I got an email first, then the award letter in the mail. When I won as a finalist, I filled out a tax form and then got a check. It felt grown-up and scary—but also kind of nice.
What I wrote about (with real examples)
Anthem: My first essay argued that “we” can erase “I,” but only on the surface. I wrote about light and darkness in the book and how names matter. I used a quote from the scene where Equality 7-2521 discovers “I.” My draft was fine, but it wandered. I did too much summary. Judges don’t love plot recaps. I learned that the hard way.
The Fountainhead: This one clicked. I picked the prompt about integrity. I compared Howard Roark and Peter Keating and asked a simple question: Is success still success if you lose yourself? I used one short quote about Roark’s work being “his” work. Then I explained what that means in plain words, not fancy ones. My teacher, Mr. Lane, made me cut the fluff. “Say it straight,” he said. So I did. That one placed.
Atlas Shrugged: I chose the money prompt. Is money the root of all evil—or proof of honest trade? I wrote about my summer job at a bakery. We priced muffins. We counted flour. I told a story of a bad batch and how value comes from skill plus effort. Not perfect, but real. I didn’t place, but I still got a sharper mind from that essay. You know what? That counts too. (For a different outcome and some sharp lessons, read one student’s honest take on the Atlas Shrugged contest.)
What I liked
- It’s free to enter. No weird fees or hoops.
- The prompts push you. They’re clear but not shallow.
- The timeline felt fair. Results came when they said they would.
- It looks good on a resume. “Finalist” got me a nod in a scholarship interview.
- If you disagree with Rand, you can still do well. I didn’t praise every idea. I argued with care. That seemed to help.
What bugged me
- The books are long, and the tone can feel harsh. That’s part of the point, I guess.
- They don’t give feedback if you don’t place. You’re left guessing.
- The word counts are tight. If you write long, you’ll cut a lot.
- The portal once froze on my phone. Use a laptop if you can.
- Expect a big field. Lots of students enter. Don’t take a loss too hard.
Time and effort (how long it actually took me)
Anthem took me a weekend to draft and a week to edit. The Fountainhead took two weeks to read, one week to plan, and another week to polish. Atlas Shrugged… yeah. That book is a mountain. I spread it over a month with a reading schedule. Muffins, coffee, sticky notes, the whole thing.
Tips I wish someone had told me sooner
- Read the book, not just quotes online. Your ideas will feel true then.
- Pick one claim and stick with it. Don’t chase ten rabbits.
- Use a couple of quotes, but explain them in your own words.
- Avoid plot summary. Analysis beats recap.
- Ask a teacher or coach to mark up your draft. Mine wrote “So what?” in the margins. Annoying. Helpful.
- Save your essay as PDF before you submit. My formatting once broke in upload.
- Submit one day early. The portal can get slow near the deadline.
- Don’t copy. They do check. And you’ll know, deep down, if it’s not yours.
If you ever decide to study Objectivism in a structured setting, here’s an honest take on the Objectivist Academic Center that lays out what works and what doesn’t.
A tiny story about feedback (or the lack of it)
When I lost the first time, I felt empty. No judge notes. No hint. So I made my own feedback. I printed my essay. I circled every sentence that only told the plot. Then I cut half of them. I forced each paragraph to answer one question: “What am I proving?” It felt harsh. It also worked. That’s how I wrote the essay that placed.
Did I have to agree with Ayn Rand?
Short answer: No. Longer answer: I took her ideas seriously. I pushed back in parts. I praised what I thought was brave. I stayed honest. My Fountainhead essay said Roark’s focus is powerful, but it can also blind us to people we love. I used a real example from my mom’s small business. Work can chew you up if you don’t draw a line. That tension—work vs. self—made my essay feel alive.
The money part
My finalist award was a modest amount—enough to cover books and a semester bus pass. The check came a few weeks after the email. I did fill out a form for taxes. Keep copies. Put the check straight in the bank. Don’t lose it in your backpack like I did for a day. That was a bad hour.
Of course, if your goal is less about tuition and more about seeing the world, there are unconventional ways to fund adventures—some people even join travel-companion platforms like Miss Travel to connect with potential sponsors for trips; the linked review breaks down how the service works, what it costs, safety considerations, and whether it’s a smart move for budget-minded students.
In the same spirit of unconventional side hustles, students in Texas college towns sometimes turn to local adults-only classifieds for quick gigs or no-strings social connections; residents of Aggieland, for example, often scan AdultLook College Station on OneNightAffair to view up-to-date listings and detailed safety pointers that help them judge whether a meet-up is worth their time and caution.
Who should try this
- Students who love debate or speech. If you can argue with care, try it.
- Readers who enjoy big themes: freedom, work, art, trade.
- Writers who like strong claims and clean lines.
- Anyone who wants a real challenge that costs nothing but time.
If you hate bold arguments or hate long books, you might not enjoy it. That’s okay. Pick a contest that fits you.
I also spent time exploring other Objectivist groups beyond the contests—here’s what actually helped after a year of trying different organizations.
My final take
Would I do it again? Yes. Even with the long reading. Even with no feedback. Why? Because I learned how to say one clear thing and mean it. The prize was nice. The lesson was better.
If you apply, keep it simple and true. Ask a sharp question. Answer it like you mean it. Use the book as a springboard, not a crutch.
And if you lose? Make your own feedback. Print it. Cut the fluff. Try again. That’s how I went from “thanks for trying” to “finalist.” Funny how that works.
Quick recap (because we’re all busy)
- I entered three Ayn Rand essay contests; I placed once as a finalist.
- The process is free, fair, and strict on word count.
- The books are long, but the prompts are strong.
- No judge feedback if you lose. So make your own.
- Best tip: one claim