Lately, several aspiring writers have asked me my thoughts on MFA programs and whether they should enroll in one. I don’t know, I don’t know. At Iowa, I was a depressive, unproductive recluse — not a good representative for the average workshop experience. Also, I came to Iowa from Brown, where I wrote and studied experimental fiction (with people like Carole Maso and Robert Coover); even a two year program couldn’t mitigate the culture shock. (In a NY Times piece on Frank Conroy’s retirement, Conroy depicts Iowa as a place where writing is priviliged over theory. But that, too, is a theoretical position — and the one most popular among traditionalists.)
If Iowa was useful for me, it was useful as a series of checks on my writing instincts. It made writing even more slow and painful, because I suddenly was able to acknowledge the difference between myself and my readers (i.e., the associations I take for granted almost always have to be explained, or cut). But, I think I need to wait a couple more years — watching where my writing (and “career” - ha) goes — before I can make an informed assessment of my time at Iowa.
So, in lieu of a longer answer, I thought I’d pass along other peoples’ thoughts on an assortment of MFA programs — excerpted from a discussion currently taking place on Brown’s creative writing list serve.
Subject: Re: Can you help me learn more about Writing Grad Programs here and abroad?
From: Anna Clark
Date: 9/01/04
[I’m having an] amazing experience [at] the unique, individualized MFA program at Warren Wilson College. …Be assured: this is not a
“correspondence class” in the cheapest sense. It is an intense, selective
(8-10% of applicants)program that does not have the cliqueishness or cuthroat
competition of other programs I’m aware of. It is an incredible program that is
unafraid to apporach the mission of good writing in creative ways.
Subject: Re: Can you help me learn more about Writing Grad Programs here and abroad?
From: Eric Melbye
Date: 9/01/04
…I earned my Master’s from the Center for Writers at the University
of Southern Mississippi, where Frederick Barthelme and Mary Robison teach
fiction. My PhD came from the University of Denver, with Brian Kiteley,
Brian Evenson, Beth Nugent, and Rikki Ducornet. (Evenson’s moved on to
Brown, as it happens…)
USM, I found, is a great program, but only for a very specific kind of
writer. If you’re already fairly successful and/or talented as a writer,
and already pretty smart about the craft of writing, you’ll do well. The
workshops are very old school: critique each other’s work, then listen to
the Master pontificate in oftentimes vague terms, then go home and figure
stuff out on your own. I was not the kind of writer I just described, and
while I learned a lot at USM, I don’t feel the instructors were terribly
helpful or supportive for the kind of writer I was then. They didn’t teach
students how to think about literature or the writing process, or open up
any new avenues of exploration, or challenge us to explore our writing in
new ways. I don’t recall any students (myself included) who found their
voice, so to speak, or actively experimented with different modes of
writing at the encouragement of the instructors. The strong writers who
came out of that program were already strong writers who would’ve become
stronger writers on their own, anyway. If you’re the kind of writer I
described above, this program can launch your career, because of the
big-name faculty and the connections they have. If you’re not that kind of
writer, I’d hesitate to recommend this program. There are many other
programs that work more intimately with the students, and there are other
programs that are much more up-to-date on current trends in CW pedagogy.
There were no classes or discussions of the job search process, the
business-end of writing, or CW pedagogy, either, which I think is pretty
small-minded of any program.
The University of Denver, I found, is one of those programs. All of the
writing instructors/classes/workshops were geared toward challenging
students to explore the writing process, and to challenge what students
think they know about literature, the craft of writing, and themselves as
writers. Students leave this program with the tools they need to continue
developing their skills/talent on their own. The instructors are active and
passionate students of the craft themselves, and they teach students to
become the same. It’s not an easy program to get into, and the student body
is a small, tightly-knit, and talented bunch. The workshops are not typical
workshops—there’s the usual critiquing of each other’s work, but also
plenty of reading/discussion of the theory of genres, history of genres,
and other kinds of important writing—book proposals, for example.
Instructors encourage students to present papers at conferences, and give
lots of personal attention to drafts of student writing, and to publishing
finished drafts.
When I graduated in ‘01, a few PhD students were preparing cross-genre
dissertations—novels that included literary theory/nonfiction, and the
like. So there’s lots of support/interest in experimentation along those
lines, both in students’ writing in teaching (there were always courses
being team-taught by faculty in diverse disciplines). Most of the non-CW
faculty were also very interested in creative writing students’ writerly
endeavors, and welcomed the writerly angle we brought to their literature
classes. Let’s face it, writers think differently than non-writers. All the
writing students appreciated how appreciative the non-CW faculty were of
our differences from them. In general, DU doesn’t suffer from that weird
territorialism that divides a lot of writing and literature departments.
Just the opposite, in fact.
There were many opportunities for students to get help with the whole job
search process, too, which was invaluable to me.
The U of Denver helped me find my voice and my subject matter, generally
speaking, and I owe that to CW and lit faculty alike. I stay in touch with
many of the students I met there, too, and we share writing, discussions of
writing, etc.
A program I know of that seems to be on the bleeding edge of things is the
School of Art Institute of Chicago. Check the web site out
. Courses blend all of the arts
together, and get writers to think about writing in new and revolutionary
ways. I know a number of the faculty members there—Beth Nugent, Christine
Hume, Amy England. All top-notch writers/thinkers in their fields.
Although I never attended Brown, from what I know of the faculty, I’m
betting that the coursework/program in general is excellent. I think any
good CW program should push students to explore their writing in new ways,
to interrogate writing/literature in general, and to learn about the
historical/culture of various genres of writing, including theories of
writing. Lots of metacognition happening.
I’m not sure how to answer the question of the weight of CW PhDs, Anna—you
ask if they have more weight on the job market. More weight than what? In
my experience (as a student looking for a job, and as a fac member watching
other writers on the search), a PhD carries more weight than an MFA,
because PhD programs typically involve coursework in theory, literature,
history, etc., whereas MFAs are more focused on writing itself (as least
that’s how many job search committees see it, whether it’s true or not). In
any case, if a writer wants to teach, s/he’d better have a terminal degree.
And if s/he wants to teach at a four year institution, s/he should probably
have a book published, as well. If a student is looking at an MFA or a PhD
program, I think that student has to want a career in academia. If you only
want to improve your writing, I’d say go for residencies at various
colonies and the like.
I think a strong option for grad students about to graduate is the post-doc
fellowship. Take a year or two to develop your writing and publish it. It
benefits you as a writer, and improves your lot on the job market, which is
brutal for writers. There are a lot of great post-doc fellowships,
residencies, and visiting professorships available. I’ve known writers who
have great experiences at Provincetown, Bread Loaf, and Yaddo, to name just
a few. These also look impressive on a CV, and can be a great aid in
publishing that first book manuscript.
Last: the latest trend in CW departments around the country seems to be in
offering courses/degrees in CW pedagogy. I think it’s great that writers
are finally thinking about how to teach, and how teaching and writing
overlap. I wish I had been able to take advantage of courses like that.
OK, I didn’t intend to go on like that. But I hope I’ve addressed at least
some of your questions, Anna. Anyone else have an opinion to share?
Subject: Re: Can you help me learn more about Writing Grad Programs here and abroad?
From: Tisa Bryant
Date: 9/02/04
Like Anna Joy, I’m a Brown MFA who didn’t check out any other schools but
Brown (somehow, my applying to the Stegner at Stanford doesn’t count…). I
didn’t give much thought to other schools, so I wasn’t concerned as much
with cutthroat competitiveness, etc.
Much of what you describe about Brown, Eric, rings true for me. A very
supportive and exploration-oriented environment. I am still making
discoveries about myself as a writer, and, just as important, as a reader.
We did a great deal of reading. I took great electives, too, which at times
were more challenging and engaging than my workshops, and where I got other
of my mind’s needs met in terms of Africana literature and thought,
narrative theory and cinema, although Brian Evenson and Carole Maso’s
approaches and interests dovetailed nicely with these concerns.
But of course, all of this has as much to do with any given student’s
personality/state-of-mind, ability to get their needs met (ASK) as it does
with the faculty and classes. In talking with MFA grads, it seems that the
worst experiences were related by the admittedly reticent, extremely shy, or
socially anxious, but I don’t want to generalize, because it only takes one
person to say or do something foul to mess up a person’s experience.
However. It’s important to get clear on the differences between (overly
vilified) activities such as “networking” and asking for what you want from
the people who can give it to you or point the way. I don’t know of any
faculty with the time or energy to coax and cajole students’ needs out of
them, and then go about fulfilling them. Brown’s health insurance covered
therapy, fyi. Ahem. However, I did feel helped to help myself in some
instances, especially during advising on my thesis, which was a very
difficult process for me, but all told, a good one, a necessary one, in
terms of becoming my own authority on my work. I’d like to hear other
people’s thinking/experiences about what a thesis adviser is and should do,
expectations vs. reality.
I will say that in terms of “professionalization” or polishing students’
work and getting them ready to teach, publish books, etc., (intros to
agents, publishers, editors, seminars or workshops on such) that’s not
Brown’s focus, although if that is a particular student’s need, that need
could be met vis-à-vis meetings with faculty, etc. We have had some people
come in, but not everybody was interested. Most of us had no business
getting all amped up about that stuff anyway, needing to focus on our
writing, not freaking about publishing a book the day after graduation.
(Writing conferences are good for that, of the Bread Loaf, Squaw Valley
variety. Those places swarm with movers, shakers, and quivering, ambitious,
sharp-eyed writers.) The finishing school aspect of some of these CWP is
fascinating to me. Iowa, the Stegner fellows, Columbia, NYU, Sarah
Lawrence, all seem to have their own private estuaries that lead to certain
bigger flows of work in literary arts publications. How the little fish
spawn. Which has much to do with where Brown grads seem to end up. Not at
the big fish enterprises, looking out for their own, but in smaller
ventures, independent, etc. Which makes sense if you consider the kinds of
presses Brown’s CWP is associated with in some way: New Directions, FC2,
Dalkey Archive, etc., the big little guys. And that’s fine for me. And
something to research. Where do CWP alums go? Where did the editor of, say,
the New Yorker graduate from, versus, say, the editor of, er, The Believer?
Who are the gatekeepers and star makers, where did they go to school?
Yet on the other hand, what Brown has that many other programs don’t is a
fellowship that is tied to teaching. Everyone gets a fellowship, and
everyone teaches two classes during their second and final year. So that
knocks out competition for the resume building experience, and ensures a bit
of “professionalization.” A big plus. And these aren’t english comp
classes, but your very own creative writing workshops in your discipline, of
your own design. While we got some guidance and preparation, a class on
pedagogy would have been excellent.
The other thing that’s important about programs, and that Anna C. asked, I
believe, is about community. I felt myself a part of a literary/arts
community here in Providence, as well as in Boston and New York. But I’m
that kind of person. I go to readings, and conferences, film festivals and
art openings, etc., to listen, learn, and meet people, keep up with new and
continuing publication ventures, etc. I was lucky to meet people
unaffiliated with Brown as well, local folks, which expanded my sense of
what is possible here, how to live if I chose to stay past commencement,
which I have. While Providence isn’t a hopping place by any stretch of the
imagination, there are pockets of very active people doing great things, and
it’s exciting to watch and participate in. RISD and Brown, as well as the
other schools here, namely Rhode Island College and URI, do a great job
bringing artists, musicians, scholars, etc., to town. It’s harder to feed
yourself well here than your head. I imagine other programs do foster an
intellectual/artistic community, but it’s been good here. Just enough
activity, just enough quiet. A good place to be if you’re working on your
art and need to live cheap but not isolated.
