In line a day or two ago, when I was checking out at the grocery store, it took about a minute of small talk before the cashier mentioned that he had an MFA in Writing. A second cashier behind me, in the next row, said he’d once launched his own business, then sold it for a profit and now was writing science fiction in his spare time.
Three out of three of us, in that small corner of the world, were or are writers. It was an impromptu, mini conference. We were our own discussion panel.
Each one of us had a different approach, and we were all in different places in relation to our material, but we’re all doing the work. To be a writer isn’t any one thing, other than working in words. It can be a compulsion.
We had a brief conversation while trying not to hold up the line with our shared obsession. Why do people write? To be heard, to clarify their own ideas, to pursue a concept, to find an audience…there’s an evolving relationship to material, in my experience. Maybe you have some thoughts on this. I’d love to hear them, below.
I have twenty-five years (more, perhaps) of experience teaching and writing. The two cashiers were both starting out. To the science fiction writer, I recommended Clarion or Clarion West, an awesome conference which has some great scholarships.
http://clarion.ucsd.edu/
For the MFA graduate, I had a few other suggestions. We all follow our own path. But today I’m thinking about how words of encouragement are so important. That’s what I try to offer students, when I teach, along with technique and prompts and the rest of it. Writing is a personal endeavor with various aims, but sometimes it is just important to know you can do it. Writing can build a life. You can do it.
With all best wishes,
Monica
PS—I may put a letter of encouragement I once received behind the paywall. An author named Tristan Egolf wrote me a letter when I was just getting started, trying to find a publisher for my first novel, Clown Girl. The manuscript was being rejected, sometimes without being read, and I felt I was circling a stone wall, feeling for the loose rock, fingers growing bloody with trying to find a way in. Tristan Egolf’s words were golden.
Thanks for this, Monica. I like how you describe that scenario. There are a few substacks debating the pros and cons of the MFA system. I saw Iowa secondhand and formed opinions about it from what I read and saw, but they aren't especially relevant.
I write because to not write feels at first weird, then uncomfortable, then unbearable.
The hard things for me are to keep after the draft until it's finished, keep polishing the revision until it has shape and tension, keep submitting the manuscript until it's accepted, keep writing in the face of terrible repeated discouragement because the first part is always true no matter what happens after. The lack of readers is tough, since most of us want to be read. I certainly do.
I have three completed novels and four "in progress," several dozen short stories (some published in literary journals, most not), and hundreds of flash fiction pieces (some of which I am sharing this month on my substack).
Submitting has been so wretched for me that sops are required. The flash fiction is typically a knee-jerk reminder that I am indeed a writer (and also to keep from going nuts by not writing). I've had some success with the NYC Midnight contests, twice advancing to the final round (but not winning). For some reason that feels different. The endpoint is short-term and totally subjective, yet seems somehow attainable.
When I studied Aikido at Portland Aikikai, the sensei told me that Ikkyo, the first technique, could never be mastered. It was a simple movement, a gesture, really, of turning your hand and presenting it to your training partner, then pulling it back. It was different every time, with subtleties and variations that changed with the day.
I think of that often when I write, and especially as I revise. Writing is a craft, so I need to keep at it.