Hello and Welcome to Sitting in Silence, the newsletter about writing, craft, worry, and joy.
It’s been a busy few weeks to say the least. I write tonight (it’s about 11pm) from the Randolph MFA residency in Virginia.
One thing I love about teaching creative writing is how so many students come to it from a place of love. They grew up reading, which was perhaps unusual in their families. They probably kept a journal. They started writing little stories and someone along the way told them they were really good at it. And they loved it. They loved their children’s books and historical novels. The feeling of lying in a hammock or by a pool and entering someone else’s world. And then they got the bug to make their own worlds. But were they ready?
Today, let’s talk about MFAs and whether they’re right for you.
I’m going to cut to the chase and tell you what we learned at the end of The Wizard of Oz. You always had the power within you to go home. Home, in this instance, meaning be a writer.
Writers are born not made. Some of us can’t help but love words, sentences, paragraphs, chapters, and books. No one needs and MFA, but anyone could use one.
What do I mean?
I’m friends with many writers who do it without the extra schooling. One day, they sit down and start writing a book. Somewhere between three months and 20 years later they publish the book, and it is wonderful.
If you have the capacity to write a book and revise it well then get it published in a manner that you’re proud of, you probably don’t need an MFA.
In fact, let’s be clear. Most writers don’t have MFAs. Scan the bestseller lists and lists of those who have major prizes and you probably can’t tell who took or three years of formal schooling and who did it freestyle.
And obviously, every writer you’ve ever heard of who published before 1950 or so did not have the benefit of an MFA. I’m talking about Ralph Ellison, Virginia Woolf, Shakespeare, Ovid, Sappho, etc. MFAs didn’t exist back then.
So why even consider doing an MFA if you’re born a writer and could possibly publish a great book without one? Because an MFA can help you.
For some of us, you need to set aside time away from work and family to write. Others need to be around other writers. Still, others just don’t know where to start or how to move forward. All of these are reasons why I went back to school at the age of 33.
I’ve been teaching in MFA programs for a little while now, and I’ll tell you what I’ve seen: extremely talented, perceptive, and thoughtful people who have decided to lean into their dreams. They show up on the first day grizzled by travel or the sense that maybe this wasn’t a great idea. But then they meet their peers and faculty and over time they grow.
Some people will eventually decide that writing isn’t for them. They scratched the itch, and that was all they needed. Others won’t even decide. They’ll just move on to other endeavors. But most people who go through these programs will continue. For these folks, the flame once lit is eternal.
In retrospect, I had to go back to school because of the unknowns. I had been writing for years at that point, but I didn’t know if I was any good or whether I could be a writer. Not knowing was tearing me up inside. I don’t have many regrets, but if I never found out the answer to that question, I would never have forgiven myself.
What can an MFA do for you?
Provide time, community, craft, and mentorship.
What makes a good MFA?
Funded MFAs are preferred, but it’s more important that you have a sense of the faculty. They should write things you’re interested in and help you to write things you’re interested in.
What should leave an MFA with?
A vision of what writing you want to produce, an understanding of the writing industry at large, and the ability to live as a writer “in the wild.”
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Do you have any questions about today’s post? Write me.
I love this. I’m also thinking about how MFA programs can be toxic places for people of color. But I want to I tread lightly as I’ve not attended an MFA program, but I have heard the horror stories from friends and students of mine.
My personal feeling, as a 1/3 MFA dropout, is I hesitate to encourage anyone to take on any debt, period. Let alone debt for an art degree. The system in place can leave people with said debt and the only jobs available being to go back and teach in an MFA program and perpetuate the cycle.
But I do agree that it can be a head start, and a guaranteed source of community.