I wish that I knew what I know now . . .

I've been thinking again about the old question of the value of the MFA, whether it's the best approach to becoming a writer or if other paths offer greater benefits. Although I certainly wouldn't say I regret getting my MFA, I think I would do things differently if I were to live the past several years over again with my current understanding and knowledge.

It's not that I wouldn't still want to go into an MFA program, take those classes, go through workshops, study for a comps exam, and all that. I would still want to do that. But I think I would have gained even more from the experience had I waited longer first. I remember reading a memoir by John Irving where he describes his experience studying under Kurt Vonnegut. Vonnegut told Irving that the lessons he was teaching were nothing that Irving couldn't discover on his own, but by studying them in an advanced program under the guidance of an established writer, the learning process could be streamlined. I think this is really the great benefit of a formal program, and yet I also think there is a lot to be gained through the trial and error of figuring things out for oneself. Finding the appropriate balance is the tricky thing.

When I finished college, I was twenty-two. I had a BA in theatre with a performance emphasis and no intention to actually become an actor, which is what I thought I wanted to do when I was eighteen. Instead, the four years of college had taught me that I was not a great actor, that instead my greatest talent was writing. Furthermore, I discovered that the most satisfying experience for me was writing. So I planned at age twenty-two to take a one year break from school and then go into grad school to study playwriting. A year later, I applied to a few playwriting MFA programs and made it all the way to first alternate in a good program, so if any of that school's first choice students declined their admission, I would be in; but, alas, they all said yes and I had to figure out what else to do with myself. I regrouped, considered my options and decided that what I really wanted to do, what would be a better fit for me anyway, was to leave behind the theatre and pursue prose writing. That had indeed been my first love.

But in my four years of college, although I took a playwriting course and many courses that involved writing essays, I had actually never taken a single class offered by the English department. I considered myself a serious reader and a good writer, but my credentials to go into a graduate program in English were limited. So I returned to school to fill in some of the gaps in my undergraduate course list. I took some literature survey courses and a creative writing workshop. Then, as I completed those, at age twenty-four I applied to graduate programs in English. I was admitted to an MA program with a creative writing emphasis and offered a TA position there. This seemed like the perfect fit. I could continue to fill in the gaps in my background by studying literature at an advanced level, but I could also work on my creative writing. Then, if I decided to continue on after the MA, I would be well prepared for an MFA program.

So I spent the next two years getting my MA. At this point I wouldn't really change anything. If I could do it over again, I'd probably keep things more or less the same up to this point in my life. But the next step I would do differently.

When I completed my MA, I wasn't burned out on school. I loved being a grad student and wanted to continue that life for a few more years. So I applied and was accepted into an MFA program. It went well, and two and a half years later, I had that degree. But doing the two Master's degrees back to back feels now like a mistake. I grew and developed as a writer during the first program, and I grew and developed in the second, and I continue to grow and develop now. But I think a lot of the growth and development I'm experiencing now on my own would have been useful a few years ago. Had I taken a break, say two to five years, after my MA, I could have taught composition, worked on my writing, and honed my skills on my own. Then, when I'd reached a point where I was far along--not necessarily as far as I could possibly go on my own, but something like that--I could have entered an MFA program. If I were a better writer when I began my MFA, I think I would have ultimately gained more from the experience. If I had more years of working things out on my own, the lessons of the formal program might have sunk in faster or clicked more readily.

One advantage to this alternate route would have simply been financial. I didn't yet have a ton of debt when I finished my MA, and had I taken a break at that point, I could have survived handily on an adjunct's paycheck, paid off my student loans, and entered an MFA program perhaps with a little savings, whereas instead I added more debt throughout the second graduate degree that I'm only now beginning to pay down. So rather than easily surviving on my meagre adjunct's pay, I'm instead working two jobs. Furthermore, if I spent the latter part of my twenties studying writing on my own, submitting, improving, and working hard, and then I got the MFA in my early thirties, I think by the time I completed the MFA, I would be at a more advanced stage in my abilities, and perhaps I would already have enough publications and experience to more quickly land a better teaching job than I currently have or can expect to have in the next couple of years.

Maybe this is in part coming from a certain sense of dissatisfaction with my current situation. Perhaps in my early thirties, I'm looking back on my twenties and wishing I could go back and relive some of those experiences. Maybe it's merely that I'd rather be a grad student right now than a teacher, and if I had done things according to this alternate plan, I would now be entering into a grad program rather than having it my past. I'm not sure. And, of course, pondering these issues doesn't change anything. I am as I am right now and can't really change it. And maybe in a few years I'll look back at this time and consider it the perfect path for my life. But at the moment, I kind of wish I'd made some other choices a few years ago.