Chelsea Biondolillo - to MA or to MFA, that is the question (2013)

Evening, y'all. I am not from the South, but I've lived in it for several of the last 15 years.

This season was my second round of applications. Last year, I applied to seven MFAs and was rejected by every one of them without so much as a wait-list. I spent the last year writing, revising, and submitting to online and print journals along with literary blog/mag hybrids. It seems to have helped: my feedback this year has been knee-knockingly encouraging. Just when I really needed it.

Much of the last year was also devoted to researching programs, talking to professors, weighing the different programs against my long term goals--I ended up applying to a mix of MAs and MFAs.

Right now, five schools have extended offers, and a couple more have me hanging on the line. I plan on graduating from somewhere in two years, but I am not sure where, yet. I am trying to decide between pursuing an MA in English with a Creative Writing focus, or an MFA in nonfiction. I have become the queen of overthinking, overanalyzing, and compulsive list making.

I like the MA for the additional lit foundation, and marketability it would lend me as a future prospective teacher. (I would apply to an MFA or PhD after graduation.)

I like the MFA for that solid--or nearly solid--year of writing a thesis. I mean writing is why we're all here, right?

Not to mention that each of the schools have their own strengths and weaknesses. Ayiyi.

There's still a month to go, and I am sure there yet remains a course catalog out there I can cross-reference to the Farmer's Almanac. Got any runes I can borrow? Can anyone pitch a lucky number my way? Do you know which colors are most auspicious for Oxen/Geminis?

Next time I drop in I will talk some more about what I see as the pros and cons of each program. Maybe I will have even picked one.

'Til later, CB

How a Second Year (in a Three Year Program) Spends His Summer

Hello friends, Romans, countrymen! It's been a while, a good long while, since I posted here. Naturally it is because of my endless cavalcade of celebrity shindigs, film premieres and promiscuous cavorting that has caused my absence. Just kidding folks. Well, mostly. Right now I am writing this from my mother's favorite recliner in my parents' house, a house they will soon be moving out of, but probably not until after I return to Ohio. I find myself in an interesting place, not physically on this chair, but personally, professionally and emotionally. Basically I am eager to get back to Columbus and start living again.

As some of you know, my transition from West Coast rockstar to Sockeye Salmon out of water in the midwest has been occasionally rough, sometimes even depressing. This is not because of the program or even the location so much as it is rooted in the fact that, before now, I never really lived anywhere else than California (and even then I've always lived within 100 miles of where I grew up). Though there is a lot of diversity in my home state, it doesn't represent the vastness of this country, because nowhere can, so Ohio, unsurprisingly, is much different from here. Different in some ways I like, and some ways I don't like. Again, nothing earth shattering about this revelation. It simply is what it is.

Anyway when my summer began I had two main goals: 1) travel around/bask in the glory that is the Golden State and 2) write poems that were better than what I wrote last summer.

The first was important because after finding myself somewhat lost and adrift in Ohio I realized that my upbringing, heck, the specificity of the time and place and circumstances of where I grew up and lived almost all of my life, was important, nay, essential to who I am and why I do this crazy poetry thing. With that in mind, I endeavored to gain a greater understanding and appreciation for my home (generally and specifically) in order to attempt to tackle it like my new hero, Robert Hass, has for decades. Simply put, I wanted to cultivate a certain kind of California-ness in my writing, a sensibility I hope to incorporate with my other writerly interests (the male body, homoeroticism, mythology, history, perspective etc.) and I want to do it both in terms of the nature, of course, but also the people. To this end I spent some time in Northern California, essentially touring the bay area, rarely sleeping in the same place twice. I walked the rocky Santa Cruz coast at night, throbbed to the helter-skelter sounds of a gay discotheque in San Francisco, and lazed in the shade of coastal redwoods looming high in Berkeley. I drove a lot, as a passenger anyway, and as such had a lot of time to observe people and places. I met vivid characters who left marks on my memory like fingerprints. I even flirted with a hot guy across a dark room, full of mostly naked men. After my sojourn was over, I headed back down to familiar territory--Los Angeles, where I dined in Ktown, skipped along the beach in Santa Monica, brought baked goods back from Canters, saw a few good movies in single-show theaters and lost myself in the beautiful Getty center (an exhibit on Social Issues Photojournalism was particularly arresting)--before finally coming home the Mojave desert. Since I've been home I've barely ventured outside and even then only long enough to get sunburned. You need to live here to realize how little time that takes. Still, it could be worse; it could be Nevada or Arizona. Even being home, even house hunting with my mother in 110 degree heat, has opened my eyes to the sparse and simple beauty of chaparral and Joshua trees. There's a lot more to love about home than I realized.

So have I written "California poems"? Some, but not many, and they're not really that good. I once heard Bret Anthony Johnston read his fiction at UCLA and he said that he found he couldn't write about a place until he left it, until he moved on. I feel the same way. I think that the physical distance enables a certain kind of emotional objectivity, not unlike how photographing something banal tends to yield intriguing details about the thing. Those details (the way light spills into a parking garage, the way macaroni and cheese can resemble human brains in a bowl) are present, but it takes the objectivity of the camera lens to yield it clearly. So too does distance in relation to our perceptions of the thing we're distanced from, be it a loved one, a pet, a favorite sweater, a car, or even a home state. I hope that I will write more about home when I return to Ohio.

I've written a lot though, a lot of non-"California" (or is it) poetry. I've drafted about fifty poems, but the number shouldn't shock anyone. I write a lot of initial drafts and typically end up with a handful of fine poems...I don't know that any of them are great except for the two being published. As we all know, published = greatest (well not really, but it sort of feels that way, doesn't it?) At any rate, I've been sporadically productive, as I'm want to, and I've started exchanging drafts with a fellow second year via these series of tubes we all hold so near and dear to our postmodern (post to the third power?) existence. I for one welcome our future robot overlords. Let them be merry and fertile. I think I've accomplished my second mission of writing better poems than I wrote last summer because I feel I am a much better and more grounded writer. I have a sense of what is important to me, what I do well, and what I need work on. This is exactly what I was hoping the program would do for me. OSU has three amazing poet-teachers and I am so humbled to have received their encouragement, criticism, praise and often humorous scorn. It's heartening to see my own progression. It gives me a sense of direction, as in I am going somewhere even if it zigzagged, spiraling down, or randomly jabbing.

I'm excited to return to Columbus because I feel like I'm going to really run as soon as I hit the ground. I am taking an Asian-American lit class (a pet hobby/potential parallel career interest of mine) and I have half a dozen novels to (hopefully) read before class starts in September. I have lessons to plan for my poetry writing class (which I am super jazzed about teaching! Those kids are going to have a lot of fun with me! Fun and LEARNING!) I have new MFAs to non-romantically romance! New Ph.D's to form an uneasy though gradually more comfortable and enriching playfully combative relationship with! I have a GradQueer organization to co-run! Poems to send out to journals (that have actually expressed interest to see such things from me!) New apartments to move into (well, just one)! So much to do! And it all starts when I head back to the home of Jeni's Ice Cream and the most unthreatening gaybars in the country (probably). I'm so glad (and fortunate really) to be in a three year program because with the introductory year behind me and the thesis year looming ahead, the second year should be a party...a writing party! Full of seriousness and purpose and personalized rejection letters and late night coffee jaunts and new recipes and pledges to go to the gym that may or may not hold and...and...and...well I'm glad to be at OSU.

Here are some recommendations on poetry: Robert Hass's The Apple Trees at Olema, Carolyn Forche's The Country Between Us, Larry Levis's Winter Stars, Alan Shapiro's The Dead Are Alive and Busy, Rae Armantrout's Versed, Timothy Liu's Say Goodnight and Ralph Angel's Anxious Latitudes. All are quite good in my estimation.

And for the applicants...don't let the process harangue you this early in the game. Be sure to be writing now since most applications won't go live for another couple of months. It's time to draft, draft, and redraft everything. A year from now if you're in a program you'll realize the humor of this since you, like me, will probably be doing the exact same thing though (hopefully) with better results.

Signs of Application Season

So this is going to be a short post, because, amazingly, it's the final week of the term before exams / portfolios are due. I've got work to do!

I had to take a moment though to reflect on this time last year -- a reflection prompted by the terrifying sight of file boxes in the conference room of the Alder Building (U Oregon Creative Writing HQ) labeled "MFA APPLICATIONS." These four, terrifying boxes prompted in me a quick memory of the preparation, the worry, the sweat, the heartache and uncertainty surrounding application season for me last year.

Seeing them, I also felt a bit of awe at how much work goes into choosing each class (two student aids have been assisting our department business manager with organizing / preparing for the influx of materials...) Last, I felt the warm flush of gratitude -- that last year I was one of the ones who made it in, that despite the hard work and occasional frustrations that have cropped up this first term, I'm so happy to be a poet in U Oregon's Program. I'm exhausted. But I love my teaching placement. I have 17 new poems (in ten weeks), new amazing people in my life to share this strange journey with, and most importantly - for me, I'm beginning to feel my soul thrive. My writing's on track; I'm chasing elusive happiness. I made it out of the application box and all the chaos was worth it.

First years, I hope you're able to look back with awe, too. Applicants, best of luck to each of you.

MFA Applications Will Kill Your Soul (But Don't Let That Stop You)

By Wahida Omar

Hey everyone. I know I'm way behind in the posting game. But my fellow Chroniclers have been doing such a great job! No shortage of MFA reading material here.

I arrived in Minneapolis on July 26th, and spent the first couple weeks house sitting and looking at apartments. I found a great little pad, and I just moved in this past Monday. My things arrived from Arizona on Friday. A few of my future classmates are here already too, and we've been having a great time hanging out and poking around the city.

So I've been super busy, but things should start slowing down a bit now---at least until orientation week starts, on August 31st. I have lots of ideas for stuff I want to talk about here, and my fellow first years keep inspiring me with all their awesome posts! I promise you haven't read the last of me.

Meanwhile, here's an excerpt from a post I wrote on my personal blog back in June. Some of you may have read it already, but I figure it's a good starting place for my posts on this blog. It's really, really long, so I'll just leave a snippet here and then include a link.

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SO, for months now I've been meaning to post a list of things I learned from the MFA application process. But I just didn't have the strength. Now that I'm safely far, far away from that soul-crushing process, I think I'm ready to give it a go.

Here's the knowledge-like substance I gleaned from the whole torrid affair.

1) MFA APPLICATIONS WILL KILL YOUR SOUL. But pleeeease don't let that stop you. It doesn't feel like it now, but there's a light at the end of the tunnel. Or insert uplifting cliche of your choice here.

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I go on quite a bit after that! You can read the rest of the post here.

I know some of our writers here have just arrived in their new cities, and some are about to start orientation. Good luck! I'm sending you all my very best settling in vibes.

How did you choose your MFA program, or did it choose you?

by Emily May Anderson

When it comes to deciding on an MFA program, there are a lot of factors to consider: location, funding, faculty, course offerings, reputation, alumni, etc. Today I want to share how I chose the schools to which I applied and how I ended up at Penn State.

About a year ago, more or less, I started researching MFA programs on the internet. I found the old U.S. News rankings, and I found the blogs and statistics and rankings put together by Tom Keeley, and Seth Abramson. I got Tom’s book and read his advice on the topic and read the summaries of all the programs. Then I started making a list. I went state by state through all the programs listed in the book and wrote down the ones in locations I could see myself living; I think I had 20 or 30 to start with. Then I looked at the statistics for each of those programs, eliminated the ones that didn’t offer much funding or that just didn't appeal to me for one reason or another. I then had a list of about 15. Some people apply to that many programs, but I knew I did not have the money for more than ten, so then I went directly to the program websites. I read what the programs said about themselves, what the students said about them, and I read between the lines, trying to get the programs vibe from the way they presented themselves online. Some websites turned me off because they were so difficult to navigate or because they didn’t have much information; other websites (University of Wisconsin, West Virginia University, and University of Alabama, in particular) really gave me a good vibe. I eliminated a few more schools by logical means, and then made my final cuts through pure intuition, and ended up with a list of 9 schools. I couldn't have explained to you how one school beat another and made it onto the final list.

I applied to one top ten program, five mid-tier programs, two lesser-known programs, and one very new one. Seven of the nine were in what I consider the Midwest though only one was in Ohio, and the list was about evenly split between schools in urban areas vs. smaller towns, as I’m equally comfortable in both. When the results were in, I’d been accepted at three programs, waitlisted at one, and rejected by the top tier program, three of the mid-tier programs, and one of the lesser-knowns. I eliminated the school at which I was waitlisted, because the more I thought about it, the more I didn’t think I would be happy in the location.

So, how did Penn State come out on top? Several reasons. They notified me early, they offered me full funding, and basically they made me feel wanted. I went out to visit for their English department recruitment weekend in mid-March, before some schools had even notified their acceptances. That March visit was the clincher for me. As I learned more about the program, I felt like it really was the perfect program for me, in ways I hadn’t even been aware of when I applied. See, as much as I love the creative aspect of writing, the expression of it, the ART of it, I also love the study of literature and the academic aspects of it all.

Penn State has a large, very well-respected English Department and a very small MFA program. A fellow MFA acceptee and I were discussing things before the visit, and we shared our fears that the MFA program might be overlooked a bit, might tend to fall through the cracks of the larger English program. But during the visit, I got the sense that it most definitely was not so. MA/PhD students and MFAs all seemed to socialize and study together, and the faculty members were equally attentive to the MFA candidates and those who’d been accepted for the MA/PhD track. The MFA at Penn State is currently transitioning from a 3 year “terminal degree” to a 2 year program that will still offer the terminal MFA but is also designed to correspond to the MA and to prepare students who wish to go on for a PhD. And I do want to do that. I wasn’t sure of it when I was applying, but it was something I was considering, and the more I thought about it, the more I felt I wanted to do it. I also connected really well with several of the faculty members during my visit, both the poetry faculty and some of the literature and theory faculty as well. And I was very impressed with the current students; they seemed smart and friendly and, even more important, truly happy with the program. I know people say that campus visits aren’t necessarily the best way to get a good feel for a program or its people, but the weekend was long enough, and filled with enough opportunities to talk in large groups, small groups, and one on one, that I think I could get a feel for how people really felt about the program and how they interacted with each other.

So anyway, I really got the sense that Penn State was a program where I would fit, and where I was wanted, and where I would be valued. In a certain way, I felt as though the people who’d read my application and chosen me for the program knew more about me than I knew about myself at the time I’d submitted it, like they saw my potential and what I was really suited for in ways I didn’t. I got a lovely email from the MFA director after the weekend, and I let my thoughts settle for a couple of days, then I accepted my offer at Penn State, and was absolutely thrilled. I really do feel like it’s where I’m meant to be.

And now, I am here. I moved into my apartment over the weekend. My roommate, an MA student, moved in on Tuesday, and I’m slowly getting settled and learning my way around. I am feeling desperately poor and a little lost, but I also looking forward to orientation next week when I will learn about my teaching assignment and start getting to know the rest of the new students. I am looking forward even more to the following week when I start classes.

If anyone has read this immensely long and self-indulgent post, here is my advice about applying to MFA programs: Do your research (the blogs I linked to earlier are excellent resources, as is Tom’s book, but also spend some time on the websites of programs you’re looking at) and make your final list with a good mixture of logic and intuition. I would also strongly recommend that you spread your choices out among the top, middle, and lower ranked programs; it’s such a subjective process, and you never know where you will really fit. Just submit your best application possible, and trust. Trust yourself, your writing, your statement, your choices. And trust the process, trust the people at the programs. They know what they are looking for, and in the best cases they know better than you do whether you fit at their program or not. It might sound goofy, but I believe that if we put ourselves out there and ask the universe for something, that we’ll get what we need. I didn’t get into my top choices, but I got into a place that I really think is perfect for me. And that is all the wisdom I can offer.