The Master’s Program as a Trade School
I’ve been accused of being a bit of a literary snob. Mostly by best-seller groupies who smell like trade paperbacks and poverty. Why don’t you go save a few dimes at a used blog store, and leave the shiny new posts to those of us with taste!
/UNDESERVED SENSE OF ENTITLEMENT
My justification for being a literary snob (literob?) always has been that if a book is best-selling and intellectually easily accessible, then it likely isn’t confronting dangerous (i.e., important) topics. I want to believe that fiction should be more than entertainment. For the most part, I still agree with this logic. But a few months ago, at the AWP Conference in Denver, CO, I came to a bit of a realization, with some help from author Tod Goldberg.
I realized that despite any drive to challenge the established format or structure of fiction, it is the story itself that keeps readers reading. I wanted to believe that a unique concept, or beautiful language, or inventive formatting alone could carry a book-length work. But no, it cannot. A book told from the perspective of a cancerous cell? Conceptually unique, but no. A book intimately describing that cancerous cell? Beautiful language, but no. A book giving dialog to every cancerous cell in a body, matching the text color to the cell color? Inventive formatting, but no. A book that imbues a cancerous cell with character traits similar to a human while putting that cell in a morally conflicted position? Sure.
My fault rested not entirely with the assumed intellectual ease of commercial (vs. literary) writing, but also with the ill-conception that plot-driven genre fiction is somehow weaker and easier to write than a high-Art piece of literary fiction. This opinion was birthed in college, where I first began to read and write. Had I read as a child, I may have understood the basal importance of plot long ago. But my literobbery was rooted in college, too late to let aesthetics matter. I was a head case (vs body case) from the beginning.
Now, five years post-graduation, a degree in-hand, and without a writing career that nullifies a day job, I’ve started to wonder about the role a university education plays in a writer’s life. Note: I wouldn’t trade my university experience for anything; I love being a literob. But I do wish that a stronger focus would have been placed on the writer’s career, and less on the writer’s life.
[pullshow]This is where Tod Goldberg comes in. During a panel titled Crime, Horror, Sci‐Fi, and Fantasy… Seriously, Goldberg, almost in passing, mentioned that [pullthis]he teaches his writing classes as though they were part of a trade program, meaning that he trains his students for actual jobs.[/pullthis] This goes against the traditional goal of a university writing program, which places almost no focus on job prospects, instead opting for a focus on intellectual ends (proselytizing [convincing students that their money is well-spent], pedagogy [teaching students to be teachers who in turn put their students in similar job-less positions], and how best to embed asides within parenthesis [I like to use brackets]).If someone loves to weld, they go to a welding school to learn to be a professional welder. If someone loves to write, shouldn’t they go to a writing school to learn to be a professional writer? The key word being “professional,” meaning, to get paid doing so.
photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/lepoolpe/
Great post Caleb. I’m astounded by the lack of talk about money, finance, careers, etc. in MFA programs these days, including my own. It’s great to write literary fiction, and I certainly do try to write edgy stuff with a literary voice in my work, but look at the best selling books (i.e., the make money) on the best sellers lists? Usually it is mystery, horror, romance and a sprinkling of literary. I can’t remember if it was Tod or Brian Evenson or maybe Seth Harwood who, at this panel, or another similar one, mentioned writing every other book for himself, and the rest to be commercially successful. It does make sense. You see a lot of actors do the same thing, take a role in a blockbuster that pays really well, followed up by an indie film where they are basically volunteering. It is somewhat irresponsible for universities to ignore the realities of the fiction world, and to only push literary writing. I’m struggling with it right now, but all you can do, really, is write what you love, and the rest of the world be damned.
Lit snob = snlit. Because that sounds easy to say.
I never studied writing, but in my chosen field of broadcasting, in college they focused on theory and practice. I’m glad they did, because some kids just wanted to learn how to run hardware/software, and now I’m working on about my fourth generation of obsolete equipment used since then. The important thing is to learn why certain things work, to give you time-tested knowledge and skills that can be applied in a variety of careers, not to place you in a job that might last for a year. Though it would be nice if you left school with a quality portfolio (of stories, novellas, etc.) that can help you land that first real-life gig.
And I just now realized you were talking about Masters Programs. Because I’m that good a reader. Sorry.
How dare you mention money near aHt (yes, with a capital H in the middle)! Isn’t the craft alone worth a five-figure debt? Isn’t it, sir!?!?
I once spoke to a creative writing professor of mine about grad school. He went in the 70’s, when he already had a wife and kids. He said he spent every week in the career center to make sure he had a job upon graduation. He even fought hard to get a covetous position grading undergrad papers to offset some of his student loans. Out of a class of 40, he was the only one to graduate with a job. He said the other 39 were just there to avoid getting one. I realized then that I would simply be going to grad school to avoid getting a job.
These days, I write for a living. No, not my fiction/memoir, but marketing resources and all that. This, with just an B.A. in English. With that, most people either teach (which I hate) or make coffee (which I did for too long). I know that I’m very blessed in that area.
Seems like all the MFA grads I meet feel like you need one, but still hate it. (You forgot, Mr. Parenthetical, that you can also start a lit zine with an MFA.) I know I can write without that motivation, and inevitably, a long time ago I came to the conclusion that most of the authors I like still have second jobs. That took a lot of pressure off.
I absolutely agree, Caleb. Going a step further, what would this improved program teach, specifically? That literary fiction is the (financial) red-headed stepchild of the industry? How to disguise your homely little thing as an object of desire?
You’re probably ahead in your thinking—this talk of improving our approach to professional writing—but I’m still stuck on wanting everyone else to change. Why don’t consumers want literary fiction, Caleb? Why?
Hey-can’t I subscribe to all the blog’s comments at once? There’s no auto email-notify for follow-up comments, and I won’t remember after today to check back. I see there’s a subscribe to comments link, does that mean I’d have to enter each post’s comment feed into my rss reader? You probably don’t need to approve this as a comment, I just didn’t feel like emailing it. (Notice I don’t anticipate an answer so much as a new link to appear… hmm.)
@Pela – I approve everything. Sorry. Oh, the power… I’ll look into the email-notify for comments. I’m sure there is a plugin for it.
What would the program teach? It would focus on how to make stories better, of course, but also about platform building, trend spotting, and marketing. Maybe this already exists (a Communications degree, perhaps). I’m not sure.
Thanks for the mention, Caleb. I’m happy to say that a program does exist that does those things you mention — or well, some of them. Trend spotting is irrelevant because once you can spot it, it’s over, but in the low residency program I run, we spend a great deal of time talking about the business of writing, to the point that we make our students sit down with a studio heads (the screenwriters, that is) and top editors at houses to talk about the actual viability of their work. Art is important, certainly, and as a writer who does live in both worlds I can say without absolute certainty that you have to know the good from the bad in terms of craft and generally literary fiction can show you that, but I believe in eating, too, and so understanding what people buy and how to write that as well is just as important. As I said on the panel: this is the future for MFA programs. You’re either going to get on board or get left behind.
@Tod – just as practical and elegant as I remember you being. Thank you for commenting.
I suppose Trend Spotting could be broadened to more the study of trends, in an attempt to recognize “the next big thing” as well as a person could. I understand this ability would be the golden ticket for any sales person, but still it may be a worthy goal.
I respect you for believing in eating.