Turning to the Dark Side

A few weeks ago, my thesis advisor Marty sat me down. He said something along the lines of "You're a very pleasant person, but in order for these poems to get really great, you're going to have to go somewhere dark".

I guess I've always written about dark things, but especially since I've begun to work on my MFA. Some of that might be natural, because of what's been going on in my personal life (adjusting to life in Middle Georgia, the unexpected death of my uncle, etc.), but really I am the happiest I've ever been. And the idea that I can't just be dark, but I need to take it even darker..into that uncomfortable, horrifying place that no one really wants to go to... was advice that I think I needed to hear, but I never expected to hear.

Has anyone else gotten this unexpected but needed advice? Are there any other dark souls out there? ;)

Decision Time: Discussion Question No. 3

I've always believed that, as an aspiring college professor, gaining college teaching experience would be one of the most important and valuable aspects of an MFA program. Very recently (as in, as of this morning), though, I have had reason to consider the possible benefits (and drawbacks) of funding packages that do not include teaching as a requirement. My thought process:

On the one hand, being funded but not required to teach would free up a lot of extra writing time, and would be a truly once-in-a-lifetime opportunity (because, I mean, how often does one get paid to write without anything asked for in return?). And if one were to plan on going to a PhD program anyway (as I am), one would inevitably gain teaching experience as part of the PhD study. Therefore, it might be a good idea to accept the non-teaching funding offer.

On the other hand, though, teaching experience is a lot more important for the aspiring professor than it is for people not interested in education as a profession, and perhaps one should take advantage of as many opportunities to get that experience as possible. Also, teaching is often said to energize the mind in ways conducive to writing, and so perhaps the extra time constraints dictated by a teaching position would not hinder writing very much if at all.

So, assuming the teaching and non-teaching offers are roughly comparable in monetary value, which would you recommend? Are there other factors not considered here that one should consider should one find him- or herself in this position? Thoughts?

Feminist Journal Contest

For those of you who enter contests, the feminist literary journal at my program, So to Speak, is having a contest.

Here is the info:

So to Speak, a feminist literary journal, announces its Fall 2010 Short Fiction Contest, judged by Maud Casey. The winner is awarded $500, 2 copies of the magazine, and publication
in the journal. Stories should not exceed 5,000 words. Deadline is March 15, 2009.

Mail entries to:
So to Speak (Fiction Contest),
George Mason University, MSN 2C5
4400 University Drive, Fairfax, VA 22030.
Please include $15 reading fee and SASE.
Full submission guidelines at http://www.gmu.edu/org/sts/contests.php
Please email sts@gmu.edu with any questions.

Best of luck to anyone who decides to enter!

Summer

So, what's everyone thinking about doing for the summer? I'm thinking about working. A lot if I can. Of course, writing a lot. I've been good about writing the last few summers so I'm looking forward to that again. I am going to miss the structure of the program and wish I had something with a similar structure for the summer (like a conference or something) but that's not something I can financially do now.

Anyone have any interesting plans? Any ideas?

I'm Following You

By Casey Tolfree

This is more of a request than a post. I was thinking that since we're all on this blog together we should support each other in following (if on blogger) each other blogs. Even if you don't read it religiously at least our blogs will all be linked.

Just a nice thought!

I'm following all of you :)

Casey

A Commuter's Journey

By Casey Tolfree

When I found out I had to go see two plays for my African American Women Playwrights class, I was at first a little flustered. Two more days I had to take off of work. Two more weeks that would be thrown completely out of wack. That feeling wore off though and I was excited. It's always great to see performances. On the upside I figured maybe I could use one of them as a cultural event for my practicum class blog.

I wasn't going to blog about the performance of Topdog/Underdog at Adelphi University on Feb. 18. I wasn't going to just take an easy path but as it turns out it was anything but easy.

I arrived on campus around 5:45 p.m., more than a little early but I didn't have to sit in any traffic and I ran into a friend so it worked out well.

The play Topdog/Underdog, written by Suzan-Lori Parks, was a reading experience from the first time I picked it up. The play itself was great. I understood why it received a Pultizer Prize for Drama in 2002. Parks has done an amazing thing in Topdog that allows us to reach out and understand the lives of brothers, Lincoln and Booth.

Seeing Parks words performed on stage though was something completely different. I laughed, a cried (not really but I felt for them), I was mesmorized by the rivalry presented to me on stage. Two of my classmates comprised the cast, Matthew Hancock and Patrick Johnson. Seeing them come to life on stage was an experience I won't soon forget. It's easy to see an actor on stage but to see someone you sit next to in class once a week come to life as another being and to completely embrace that character. It was definitely an experience.

After the play their was a brief talkback. I think it might have been longer but the play ended after 10 p.m. and everyone seemed tired. The actors spoke about the process they went through to even get Adelphi to allow them to put on the performance. We learned about the idea behind the set. It was in the round, with the audience on three sides and a small space in the middle as the stage. The set was a room at a boarding house where the brothers lived. The set designer used a fence and barbed wire to portray the room.

The set designer saw the rivalry between the brothers as a constant dog fight and tried to get the set to look like a dog fight arena of sorts.

Like I said the talkback was brief. But my trip home was anything but brief. I go to Adelphi University's MFA program. I commute from Westchester county. A 35 mile drive, about an hour trip, just to get there. It's a hike but I make it and most days I dont' mind it. It gives me time to think about my writing or work out revisions in my head.

However, walking out of the play last night at 10:40 p.m. I got in my car, pulled out of my spot, only to realize I had the flattest of flat tires. Yeah, great. I went to public safety who kindly informed me that they couldn't help me because of insurance issues, but the gentleman who I found was at least helpful. He made sure he found someone to come out and at least get my donut on my car so I could drive somewhere.

The process however was long. We didn't find someone willing to come out to Adelphi and change a tire for almost an hour. It then took the repair guy almost an hour to get out to Adelphi and about 40 minutes to change the tire. It was a process. I didn't get in my car until after 1 a.m.

I don't know what you know about donuts but let me tell you, you can't drive very fast or very far on them. Luckily, I have relatives in the Bronx who were nice enough to lodge me for the night. So I drove 30 mph up the Cross Island and over the Throgs Neck Bridge to my Uncle's. I didn't get there until after 1:30 a.m.

I had to call out of work too because even with the donut I still can't get all the way home until I get two new tires. Yes, two. Both front tires are shot. Thank God for tax refunds. I'm actually writing this from my Uncle's. He's playing Halo and I'm blogging. We talk every now and again but I guess that's how it is when you're 23. They don't have to entertain you. A place to sleep was more than enough for me though. I just wanted to not be stranded. And though I'm still stranded at least it's somewhere I am safe.

I feel like this was a cultural experience because I saw so many different sides to humanity out there stranded. The public safety officer was really nice to me. He helped me out. The rest of public safety kicked me out of their office and made me wait alone in the lobby of Levermore Hall for the mechanic. Nice, I know.

The mechanic was really nice. He called to check on me as I was driving home to make sure my donut was okay and everything.

My job on the other hand gave me a hard time about not coming in. I tried explaining how I was literally stranded. My car couldn't make it to Westchester and that Starbucks would have to go on without me but they didn't seem to want to hear it. (I found out later it was because my shift supervisor had to go to a funeral but I couldn't predict this was going to happen).

You learn a lot about people when you are stranded late at night. I learned a lot about myself. I don't handle stress well, not when it comes to my car, my job, my property (ie my Macbook). I usually cry and freak out. I remained calm the entire time. I dealt with everything as it came and figured it out.

So maybe I didn't have an indepth conversation with a writer about process or style but Topdog/Underdog isn't a performance I will soon forget and for that reason I'm putting it on here because it was an event for me. I saw a play about how people tear each other down and then I went outside and had to depend on the kindness of others to get me home (or close enough). I see a parallel. Maybe I'm wrong but it was an experience I won't soon forgot and I am absolutely going home and signing up for AAA.

Lit Woes

So the second semester of the first year is shaping up much differently than my first one. First, I love getting variety in workshop instruction, getting something different, coming to understand how another professor looks at poems and guides us to look at poems. Because of the weather we've only met at Rita's house once so far and that sucks, but that's not supposed to be the point of workshop lol.

This is a two year program so some of the second years have been submitting poems more frequently in preparation for their final thesis. Just when you think you've gotten to know their work...boom...some sort of crazy leap happens and a huge progression is obvious (not that they weren't already great). I feel this way about pretty much all of their poems lately. It's pretty amazing and inspiring. I'll take some progression please. Yes, one large lump of it would do. As far as my progress, I think the biggest thing that my professors and classmates have helped me to focus on with my work is an economy of words and really tightening my language. So we'll see where that takes me.

My first semester was very easy academically. Which was a nice break. Not that the writing was easy, it never really is. But this semester is a challenge so far with my lit class. I was an undergrad English major and I'm taking a graduate level lit seminar. A lot of the people in the class are first year PhD students whom I assume were also undergrad English majors. So to kill my intimidation I assured myself that only one semester separates our knowledge base. This would work for me if UVA wasn't apparently storing first year PhDs in pods their first semester, feeding them knowledge and the ability to speak intelligently, read quickly and still retain all the key points to discuss in class. I don't feel like I fit in my lit class, I almost feel like it's their class and not mine, kind of how I might feel if they were in the MFA workshop maybe. They don't make me feel this way. The professor doesn't necessarily make me feel this way. I do think the professor recognizes there are things I haven't learned as an MFA student that the Lit kids obviously picked up in their pod infusions. When I said I wasn't familiar with something, she said, "Well, you're creative writing." I made it clear that I was in the class for the opportunity to learn though. I don't know. It's seriously an internal struggle. Probably why I write poems in the margins of my notebook all during class.