When I started thinking about applying to an MFA program in 2019 my reasons were pretty superficial. I was cruising the book fair at AWP in Portland like it was a paying gig and thinking about what a treat it must be to go back to school and spend entire days and weeks and months studying writing, creating stories, hanging out with other people doing the same thing. I looked at the possibility of applying to a low-residency program, but then I saw the price tag.
Aside from the cost, another reason the low-res option seemed impossible was because I really didn’t know what my purpose for attending would be in the first place. My interest felt like it was coming from a purely selfish place. What would it lead to, exactly? What would be the ROI? I had no idea. Looking back I realize now that this and the cost were two sides of the same coin. At that time I didn’t even have a writing habit established. It would be several months later that I took my first online workshop and discovered the Twitter flash fiction community (RIP).
After that first workshop that summer, I experienced a shift. I had been writing freelance content and articles, blogging, even participating in one-off creative writing activities here and there for years - I was definitely a Writer - but the writing I did in that online workshop, the response I received from the instructor and fellow writers, it was different. I found my people. I started thinking maybe I could write fiction, despite years of insisting that just wasn’t my thing.
Fast-forward through a pandemic, and in 2022 I had taken a dozen or so workshops from amazing writers and organizations that were forced to put their content online. Those led to a decent list of journals and anthologies my flash fiction was published in, inclusion in a terrific community of fellow writers online, a family vacation built around a flash fiction conference in the UK I wanted to attend, and finally, a contract with an independent press to publish a collection of flash that I’d written. 2022 was a big year.
When the idea of applying to the MFA program at University of Arkansas popped up that fall it no longer seemed like such a crazy idea. In fact, since I live approximately twenty minutes from campus, and they cover tuition and pay a grad assistantship to their candidates, it felt doable. But I still felt the tug of “but why??” questions that kept bouncing around in my head. I still wondered if I was being selfish for wanting to spend time focusing on something that was 100% - no way around it - all about me.
Listen, I’ve spent over thirty years focused on caring for others as a mom, a wife, working in administrative roles that support executives and I didn’t need it to improve my career options. I’m also an oldest daughter, first child, a Libra… If I were a doll with a string in my back, when you pulled it I would say “What do you need and how can I help?” So, you know.
I made an appointment with the assistant director of the program and asked “Why would I want to be in an MFA program?” I said I am not sure I have more books in me than the one I had already published, and I have never wanted to teach. I mostly write flash fiction and that’s certainly not considered a “serious” writing pursuit by most people in the academic and publishing worlds. I don’t remember how she responded, but I do remember is how I presented myself in the application I decided to submit just a few days before the deadline. I stated that I wasn’t sure that I even wanted to apply until I decided to do it. I mentioned the hesitations I shared in my conversation with the assistant director. Then I explained I had realized that it’s the community I’m most interested in - other writing students, visiting authors, the faculty - people who are in love with words and the power they possess. I wanted to be a part of and contribute to that.
I’m a person who counsels friends who are considering reaching for a thing but are afraid to fail or change their minds to always try, and make someone else tell you no. So I took my own advice.
When I’m done in 2027 (YES, A FOUR-YEAR PROGRAM!), I still don’t know if I will publish another book. I will definitely have to write a book, because that’s kind of the point of an MFA program in creative writing. But I am most excited about the related career possibilities: publishing, nonprofit literary organizations, higher ed communications, community writing projects. I know that being in this program will expose me to opportunities that I would not be able to find anywhere else. I’ll be able to develop the skills and professional connections I will need to pursue a career in something that I’m truly passionate about for the first time in my adult life.
It feels good to be selfish, for once, for a long-haul project. To invest in myself. And that’s a great reason to be here.