Well, after a shameful lapse in working toward my initially stated writing goals, I'm back on the wagon, or whatever. I started a writing group with some friends--we just had our first deadline last weekend and another one looms only a week away. Finished a book this afternoon, started an essay I am so far very pleased with... so now, of course, it's time to watch reruns of House and eat ice cream while playing Scrabble on Facebook.
It occurred to me (by way of my therapist) that my obsessive focus on being productive over the past couple of weeks has actually paralyzed me creatively. So I promised myself that I would focus this weekend on being rather than doing. Somewhat annoyingly, I have ended up getting a lot done despite myself, but at least I'm not allowed to feel bad for not having gotten more done. More importantly, I wrote spontaneously. I'll credit a bit of inspiration for that, though--the book I finished was Alexander Chee's Edinburgh, which was fucking beautiful. His writing style cuts to the heart of me and opens me up, the way I expect books to do--but so few actually succeed. I'm thrilled to have found this one. His story, 13 Crimes Against Love, published in Lodestar Quarterly in the fall of 2002, is a great example of his talent.
In other news, I came by a blog post complaining about the lack of funded creative writing MFA programs in the U.S. I couldn't believe that this woman would make such a ridiculous statement after claiming to have made a "pretty thorough investigation." I would have told her how wrong she was on her own blog if she'd enabled comments, but apparently she is too cool for that. So I thought I'd post about it here. There are, in fact, several dozen funded MFA programs in the U.S., one of which I'll be attending in the fall and about 12 others from which I was rejected earlier this year. Anyone who is thinking about applying to creative writing MFA programs needs to read Tom Kealey et al's Creative Writing MFA Handbook, check out the MFA blog, and carefully peruse Seth Abramson's MFA/PhD rankings, statistics, etc. I thought this was obvious, but apparently some people have still managed to miss these very prominent online and print resources. SIGH. Well, if you do miss them and consequently despair at having no hope of MFA glory, you have no one but yourself to blame for being too lazy to do any real research.
On that pleasant note, happy summer solstice, everyone!
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Sunday, May 24, 2009
the future: writing and teaching
Sunday, May 24, 2009
an MFA-bound friend shared these two links with me:
Life After the MFA: Four Years Later, Taking Stock
Writers Index 2008-2009
sobering, to say the least. reading these struck me especially hard given my lack of productivity over the past several weeks--but i figure sometimes it's more important to live than to write. (heresy?!) and sometimes you're just too mired in confusion to be noble about admitting it on paper... i think that's where i've been.
luckily, on the same day that my friend sent me these links, i received my teaching assignment for fall 2009. i'll be teaching creative writing to a bunch of undergrads (as many as 24 of them, actually), and i am completely stoked. already i've begun mulling over lesson plans. what is the crux of what i need to convey to these impressionable young would-be writers? (ok, let's set aside for the moment the possibility that at least one of my students will be as old as i am.) i know what matters to me in a piece of writing, and i know what, when omitted, leaves a work lifeless and forgettable for me. i also know that this thing is not exactly the same as it is for other writers or devoted readers. maybe i am less forgiving of writing (and many things in life) than a lot of writers and teachers. still, i think it's hard to disagree that the heart of (in) a work of fiction or nonfiction is what makes it come to life and mean something long after the pages have disappeared from view. i think this is the idea i'll push the hardest: that to write well, you have to dig into the dark, deep, painful place inside you where nothing is articulated and nothing is comprehensible. and then you have to stay there. honestly, i think this is what makes not only a good writer, but a good human being.
i look forward to seeing how this little experiment turns out.
meanwhile, i just finished robert boswell's The Half-Known World, a book of essays on craft. i picked it up initially because boswell is the director of the NMSU creative writing MFA program, where i was admitted, and i'd heard wonderful things about him as a workshop leader and professor. after reading this book, i can see how this would be the case, and i'm a little sorry that i will probably not have the chance to have him as a teacher, but i guess reading his work is the next best thing. (not that i in any way regret choosing Minnesota--boswell is retiring from NMSU next year, anyway. and i am beyond thrilled to have julie schumacher leading my fall workshop--i've spent maybe an hour with her and i already love her.)
i can never get enough of reading craft books--they seem more reliable in inspiring me to write than do works of fiction or creative nonfiction. i guess lately i've just felt too emotionally vulnerable to be able to afford opening up a book and having an author get it wrong. does anyone know what i'm talking about? sometimes i am so embarrassed about being both poorly read and a total snob about what i do read.
Life After the MFA: Four Years Later, Taking Stock
Writers Index 2008-2009
sobering, to say the least. reading these struck me especially hard given my lack of productivity over the past several weeks--but i figure sometimes it's more important to live than to write. (heresy?!) and sometimes you're just too mired in confusion to be noble about admitting it on paper... i think that's where i've been.
luckily, on the same day that my friend sent me these links, i received my teaching assignment for fall 2009. i'll be teaching creative writing to a bunch of undergrads (as many as 24 of them, actually), and i am completely stoked. already i've begun mulling over lesson plans. what is the crux of what i need to convey to these impressionable young would-be writers? (ok, let's set aside for the moment the possibility that at least one of my students will be as old as i am.) i know what matters to me in a piece of writing, and i know what, when omitted, leaves a work lifeless and forgettable for me. i also know that this thing is not exactly the same as it is for other writers or devoted readers. maybe i am less forgiving of writing (and many things in life) than a lot of writers and teachers. still, i think it's hard to disagree that the heart of (in) a work of fiction or nonfiction is what makes it come to life and mean something long after the pages have disappeared from view. i think this is the idea i'll push the hardest: that to write well, you have to dig into the dark, deep, painful place inside you where nothing is articulated and nothing is comprehensible. and then you have to stay there. honestly, i think this is what makes not only a good writer, but a good human being.
i look forward to seeing how this little experiment turns out.
meanwhile, i just finished robert boswell's The Half-Known World, a book of essays on craft. i picked it up initially because boswell is the director of the NMSU creative writing MFA program, where i was admitted, and i'd heard wonderful things about him as a workshop leader and professor. after reading this book, i can see how this would be the case, and i'm a little sorry that i will probably not have the chance to have him as a teacher, but i guess reading his work is the next best thing. (not that i in any way regret choosing Minnesota--boswell is retiring from NMSU next year, anyway. and i am beyond thrilled to have julie schumacher leading my fall workshop--i've spent maybe an hour with her and i already love her.)
i can never get enough of reading craft books--they seem more reliable in inspiring me to write than do works of fiction or creative nonfiction. i guess lately i've just felt too emotionally vulnerable to be able to afford opening up a book and having an author get it wrong. does anyone know what i'm talking about? sometimes i am so embarrassed about being both poorly read and a total snob about what i do read.
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