I don’t miss being in college, but I miss college. There is no other time in life quite like it – living among and with all your friends in close-ish quarters. Learning and discovering new things (hopefully). Trying everything. You just don’t think like you do in your college years ever again. It’s a fantastic time that will not and probably should not be repeated.
After completing my second set of Master’s level classes, I realized that I loved being a student, but hated finishing anything. I hated finished papers, though I loved writing them. Maybe blogging is my way of saying screw this, I don’t need no stinkin’ conclusion!
I had decided in undergrad, which carried over into grad school, that most professors just want you to spit back what they tell you and I got pretty good at that. Sometimes without even reading the material. Let’s face it, these profs read what seems to be endless papers filled to the brim with syntax issues and after about 10 years of this, most of them are on auto pilot. I know I probably would be. The brief dalliance I had with teaching showed me that I have no discipline whatsoever and would much rather have a healthy loud discussion with no outcomes at all than to teach someone how to write a complete sentence.
So instead of getting the M.A. in English Lit, I became a Creative Writing MFA student. at a Buddhist school. which you would think would be pretty progressive and a bit laissez faire. Ummmm not so much.
This particular Buddhist school was the exact opposite of free thinking and creative and felt more like a 12 step program. First step being realize you will never be as good as the tenured. I mean until you’re tenured.
And I still haven’t completed the MFA and I still haven’t published the next great American novel (which I won’t most likely do unless all other fiction writers in the country drop dead… not saying I want that to happen… not saying I don’t want that to happen… haha). But I will always BE a writer – published or not doesn’t matter to me. I have been published in drips and draps (drabs?) but that is entirely not the point. I write because I breathe. I breathe because I write. It’s one of three things that are my great joys, the others being making music and something else. I like to think of writing as my heart, music as my soul, and I cannot live without them.
I keep thinking eventually I need to go back and finish the MFA so I can teach. I would love to teach creative writing. Oh and comic books. I would LOOOOOVE to teach comic books… 🙂
First lesson, Watchmen.
Second lesson, Batman.
Third lesson, Johnny the Homicidal Maniac.
I’ve tried submitting this syllabus to William and Mary… well, that’s exactly what the syllabus says. They haven’t called me yet, but I’m hoping… haha 😉
“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”
– Ernest Hemingway