Pro #2: Dedicated Time to Write
(Second in a series of posts designed for people considering the pros and cons of earning a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing, specifically a low-residency MFA. I’m one year out from completing mine, and thought I’d share my experience. The first post in the series can be found here.)
Ask any MFA graduate what they liked best about their program, and they’re likely to mention the dedicated time (and, perhaps, permission) to write. An MFA program should get you in the habit of doing the two things that can make nearly anyone a better writer: focused, habitual reading and regular, disciplined writing.
Some days are more productive than others, but no work will ever be done if you don’t clock in and show up. A good MFA program will give you something to show up to.
Many of us who write find that we can procrastinate these two essentials right out of our lives far too easily. Reading falls by the wayside, replaced with social media, work obligations, aimless internet browsing, and social media. Writing falls victim to short blasts on Twitter, useless arguments on Facebook, emails, and everything else that comes our way. The quickest way to get a clean house around here is usually to get me started on a writing project. Procrasticleaning, procrastibaking, procrastinapping, call it what you will, but all are very real enemies of getting sh…tuff done on the page. Homework and deadlines and feedback from your mentor and cohort help fight against these tendencies.
A good MFA program will also push you to your limits in terms of writing regularly and writing a lot. You will learn quickly that “The Muse” is a myth. If there is a muse, it’s activated by applying your behind to a chair and writing whatever comes to mind on a regular basis. Those who write when the spirit strikes are usually those who find themselves wondering why they never complete anything. As John Darnielle so aptly put it during a workshop years ago at the Calvin Festival of Faith and Writing (I may be paraphrasing), “writer’s block is a bourgeois luxury.”
If you’re a working writer, you learn that working people keep regular hours. Some days are more productive than others, but no work will ever be done if you don’t clock in and show up. A good MFA program will give you something to show up to. It will keep you accountable. It will teach you how to become a working writer and how to stare down the intimidation of a blank page. In the case of a low-residency program like the one I graduated from, it will also force you to find a balance between your day job and your writing life.
Pro# 3: Dedicated Time to Read
I can’t speak for every MFA program, but reading was a huge part of mine. I fell into writing mainly as a side-effect of two things: I’ve been an avid reader since childhood, and I journal to keep myself sane. The readings I was assigned in my MFA program gave me a sense of what’s out there in the world. I read things I’d never have picked up on my own (hello, Eat the Apple). I was exposed to a plethora of different writing styles, genres, and more book recommendations than I could possibly keep up with. During my first year’s summer residency, I started carrying around a small notebook just to keep track of all the book recommendations our mentors brought up in workshops and classes.
I developed a deeper knowledge of contemporary and classic literature, which books were being talked about, which authors were in vogue (or not, often because of their behavior beyond the page). I learned the importance of reading outside my own experience, of amplifying voices outside my own world by reading and recommending, and now, assigning books by authors whose voices must shout over that of the majority to be heard. That exposure to a variety of other writers broadened my own writing and gave me many models to follow, or at least to experiment with. Even more valuable than the depth and breadth and volume of reading we accomplished, we learned to read as writers. We learned to go from saying, “I love this book” to being able to articulate why we loved it. We were encouraged to look into the writing craft of a book.
Could a person do this without the structure and expense of an MFA program? Absolutely. For many, this might be the better route to take. Writers have compiled books that essentially form a sort of do-it-yourself MFA. What the books don’t come with, however, is accountability. Without the external motivation of completing something like an academic program, developing those habits will be more difficult —but not impossible. The accountability (and, hopefully, if you picked a good program) encouragement that comes within the community of an MFA program is something that would be difficult to replicate on one’s own. You could possibly start or join a local writers’ group, join an online writers’ forum, find a friend to read your work and keep you motivated, but then, the community is another reason many are attracted to an MFA program. More on that in a day or two.
