Okay, so you've earned the MFA, you've gone onto other things, and one day you think, "Should I try writing again?"
It's scary at first. You realize how darn busy you are. Maybe you work 40 hours+ a week, maybe you have a family, maybe you have like a zillion things to do in those few hours where you're not working... Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
So, you ignore the little thing in the back of your mind that demands you're a writer and it's high time you started writing. It's fine for awhile. Then, you remember those stories and wonder if there's any use in trying to get them published. A few stories in the mail--how difficult can that be? But there's something about it that doesn't feel right.
You forget about it because it's Christmas/busy time at work/flu season, etc. After that passes, you remember, again, that you have an MFA and wonder if you should try to write.
You remember how difficult it is, and how there's no real use in writing anyway because for every 10,000 (children) stories written, one is published. ONE!
Something in the back of your brain says, "You're supposed to be that one."
Hmmm...
You forget about all those MFA stories because they're old, and they bring back slightly uncomfortable feelings. Could it be that you've changed? Grown? Gotten past all those angst-ridden characters who populated your fifteen page assignments?
Yikes! Did you just say assignments?
Hmmm...
Could it be that your MFA program was school? And you were turning in assignments that may not have been what you really wanted to write? Didn't you hear whispers around the hallways, way back then, about that one writer in the program who was writing scifi/romance/erotica for extra cash?
Didn't that always intrigue you a bit? Writing and having people read it? And pay for it? Didn't you always want to write romance/scifi/mysteries/children's novels but you couldn't admit that during the MFA because that was--gasp!--genre and--gasp!--commercial.
Hmmm...
Your brain isn't content to forget it this time even though it's summer/winter/cold/hot/busy. Your brain tells you there's some work to be done here.
You sorta wish that your MFA program would have given you a glimpse into the real world of writers. Instead of dwelling on point of view, voice, narrative, exposition, maybe a few hours could have been dedicated to HOW WRITERS MAKE A LIVING ONCE THEY GRADUATE!
Ah ha...
So, you start your investigation. You hit the Internet, the library, the bookstores. Searching, searching, searching for a way to make it all work, somehow, in your busy life.
More later...
Have you read this story before?
I got an MFA, I graduated, I got a "real" job... and I quit writing. Maybe it's your story, or maybe it's that quiet guy's from down the hall, or maybe it's your strange sister-in-law's. It belongs to many of us, the proud MFA graduates who don't write anymore. But wait--could it have a happy ending?
One day about five years after my MFA experience ended, my husband asked me if I was going to ever write again. He sounded kind of sad, as though I had put to rest something too soon.
I thought about it. Then, I forgot about it. Then, many months later, I thought about it again. To tell you the truth, I got a little mad.
What should happen when a person gets an MFA in creative writing? Should you leave with a stack of stories or a novel that's ready to be submitted for publication, except you're lost when you try to figure it all out? Should you, somewhere along the line, have developed a strategy to enter the "real" writing world? Should your classes and teachers have helped prepare you to become a lifelong writer, someone who will contribute long after the doors of the beloved school have closed behind you?
Or should you leave disheartened becase one of the main lessons you were taught while in your MFA program is that there is no place for creative writing in today's world? Another lesson--those few teaching jobs that exist are tough to get. Yet another--there are thousands upon thousands of wanna-be writers out there who are probably--let's be honest--a lot better than you.
I wasn't certain of all the lessons I had learned, but I knew this one--I didn't learn anything in my MFA except how to craft a literary-styled short story. That, and a couple bucks, would buy me a cup of coffee.
Okay, okay. It wasn't all bad. Think back on those years. You got to meet some famous writers. You hung out with your friends. I'm willing to bet you went to some great parties. You were patted on the back. You were praised. You studied the greats. You got lots of feedback from other students and from those teachers who were actually generous and kind. But ask yourself this--have you published a book yet?
So, I started scheming, planning, and, eventually, writing. I started, ever so slowly, to break free from my MFA past.
More to come later...
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