Confessions of an MFA grad

Hi everyone. I'm back from Nebraska, and I officially have my MFA in fiction. Some of you might think the pressure is off since I no longer have homework, but actually, graduating is a little like having a permanent homework assignment.

You see, I now have to uphold the expectation of my program, my friends and family who have watched me earn this degree, and my graduating class-some of the most talented individuals I've had the pleasure to encounter. Now I have to publish, which is the best advertisement for the program. I have to not sit in front of my computer with a cork-less bottle of wine that I must drink because it will go bad soon.

Then, Amy Winehouse died the day of graduation, which is like some kind of cosmic warning; create or perish! It doesn't help that we're the same age. I tried to find a nice Amy Winehouse quote to read at graduation, but most of the quotes were short drink recipes. "What's your recipe for success?" asked the Rolling Stone reporter. "Uh, that's a dash 'ah scotch an' lots of ice," Amy probably answered very seriously and drunkenly. That didn't actually happen, but it could have.

Vegas weather is sucking the creativity out of me: My current thoughts about the writing process

I can't seem to write anything lately, and as you can tell from the title of this blog, I'm just going to blame the weather. Other people blame the weather for stuff all the time, so I've decided I'm just going to make a habit of doing that too. Instead of, "Oh, I have to stop my exercise plan because it's sooooo hot," or "Sorry I forgot to pay for my gas and drove away. The heat must be getting to me, " I'm just going to say that I get heat stroke every time I open the document that contains my novel manuscript.

When it gets cold, I'll say my computer keys gave me frostbite.

Anyway, my writing malaise might actually have started because I'm going to be graduating with my MFA at the end of this month. I'm basically done at this point. I've sent off my thesis, made the powerpoint for my lecture, and purchased my plane ticket to Nebraska for my last residency. But I can't seem to think past graduation. To be honest, I don't have any plans. I can't really imagine what it will be like not to have the guarenteed 10 days with my writing pals every six months. I love every one of them, and for a long time, my writing has depended on not letting them down.

Chivalry is dead, and it was killed by this guy ----->

On the way home from work yesterday, I stopped at the grocery store to pick up some yogurt and granola. You see, I recently arrived home after my MFA residency where I was served yogurt, among other things, for breakfast every day, so I had a hankering for active cultures.

Anyway, I grabbed a big bulk box of yogurt and a bag of granola and headed toward the self-checkout. When I got there, all the lanes were full, and this one guy was waiting in line. As I approached him, he said, "Go right ahead," and made this little sweeping gesture with his hand. I figured, ok, he must be letting me go ahead of him because I only have two things and he's a genteel. So I stood in front of him.

A second later, he made this little clearing-of-the-throat sound and said, "The line's behind me." Really? REALLY? From what I deduce, his "Go right ahead" statement must have actually been meant as a signal to cross in front of him and then take my "rightful" place behind him in line. So I stood there stunned for a minute and moved behind him.

First of all, I don't need some guy's permission to cross his path. (This isn't Iran.), and second, who would go through the bother of specifying that I should move to the back? I mean, there were only a few of us in line and eight lanes! I've been told lately that I should be nicer to strangers, but it took every ounce of self-control not to say, "Oh, I thought you were being A GENTLEMAN!"

Karma allowed me to swipe my two measly items and pay and get the hell out of there before he even finished. So there. Ha.

Residency Days 1 and 2

I checked in yesterday for my first University of Nebraska MFA residency at Lied Lodge in Nebraska City. It is a quaint town, which is currently being taken over by Wal-mart; the independent grocery and bookstore are the most recent victims. Lied is an eco-friendly cabin that has recycling bins in each room and the best food ever. Apples are their thing here. There is fresh apple pie every night at dinner, an abundance of coffee and plenty of plush pillows.

My fellow writers are incredibly friendly, like-minded individuals. Everyone is a character, and it's difficult not to like everyone, even if you don't particularly like their work. I already feel at home, and I'm determined to write more when I get back home. I already feel more focused than before.

I'm up at workshop tomorrow. Rumor is workshop is helpful but sometimes intense. I'm looking forward to it anyway. I'm too close to my own writing. I need other opinions in order to improve.

The rest of the day will be occupied by faculty readings, workshop, and eating. Amen to that.