Damn you John Hopkins and your "different" Statement of Purpose. I'll be honest. It's been awfully hard for me to get up and writing this thing. The fact that John Hopkins' SOP asks for something so vastly different -- a critique of your work rather than a simple, "state your goals and dreams, blah blah blah" -- has severely complicated the enjoyment of my otherwise lazy and uneventful holiday break. My original SOP probably took me 10-15 hours to compose in its entirety, with about close to a dozen rewrites. But then, I was able to slot that SOP to 7-8 schools with only minor changes, and spent maybe a couple hours more heavily editing it for those remaining 2-3 schools. Easy. Minimum work (relatively speaking) for maximum coverage.
With John Hopkins? I could easily spend (and have probably already spent close to) the same amount of time writing my original SOP. The problem is it's for one school. Don't misunderstand -- I would love to go to John Hopkins, I would take that acceptance in a heartbeat if they gave it to me. But the reality is, I'm probably not going to go there. With an acceptance rate of under 5%, I have to be truthful with myself. We're talking about maximum work for minimum coverage.
Add in the fact that I've "come down" from my hard working high, applying to schools a couple weeks ago. A couple weeks ago, when I was in the thick of it, spending 2-4 hours a day checking and double checking each application, reading and rereading each story, making sure I had the right address on each envelope, it would've been easier. There was a kind of purpose in my single minded misery. I wouldn't have minded taking on one more thing back then. Nowadays, motivation is such a bitch. I wake up (or come back from work), stare at the SOP, and think, "I can do this tomorrow. I have so much time." Then I go watch a movie. Or play solitaire. Or read a book. Or write an entry for this blog. Anything but work on that stupid John Hopkins SOP.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
What next?
It's an inevitable question. You've finished all your applications. You've sent your recommendors gift cards thanking them for their work. You've paid all your bills and application fees, hoping that the little money you have left will be enough for graduate school next year. So what's next?
With the very large likelihood of staring down a long, bitterly cold, two-three month winter before hearing anything from the thirteen schools I had applied to, I figured it would be a good exercise, maybe even therapeutic, to take up some kind of activity in the interim to busy myself. But what kind of activities? I made a list of requirements (because I love lists so much) that a potential activity had to fulfill:
1. It had to be cheap.
2. It had to be time consuming.
3. One of the activities has to be in the realm of writing.
I think the third point is the most important. As a default, I think we all realize that writing is naturally going to be one of the things that we pick right up when our applications are all finished. It occupies us. It's what we do. At the same time (and I don't think I'd be alone in saying this), unless you're the kind of person has tremendous amount of self-motivation, writing in this time of year, especially when all we can think about is how and when schools will accept or reject us, is a very difficult prospect. Making writing fun again through some kind of activity is a necessity.
The most obvious way to do this is taking some Creative Writing classes. Something local is always convenient, and if you live in a big enough city, you can probably find some form of "Continuing Studies" Creative Writing courses at the major university, and to a lesser extent, at the community college. But are they any good? It depends. I've taken my fair share of Creative Writing classes at nearly every level of college, except graduate -- I've taken classes as an undergrad at Purdue, as a post-grad student at the Graham School of Continuing Studies (Chicago University), and community college classes at the College of Lake County. To be completely honest, the only class that had any "meat" on it was the one I took as an undergrad at Purdue, and even then, I don't know how much of an honest assessment that is, since I was just starting out as a writer. The main problem with every other class I've taken (and I suppose you could include my Purdue experience in there as well) is that these courses are intended for beginners. They were the kinds of courses where by halfway through the semester only half of the students showed up (the ones who hadn't had their stories critiqued in class yet), and where we were still learning the mantra of "show, don't tell." It's an unfortunate fact, as "Fiction II" or "Advanced Creative Writing" courses are, in my experience, far and few between.
I don't want to say there isn't any value in beginning-level courses. On a community-level, it's a great place to meet other writers. Sure, you'll bump into a lot of beginners the majority of which don't even stick with writing, but once in a while, you'll run into other passionate, outstanding writers. All of the people in my first writing group came from the Graham School class. It's also a great way to simply get started writing again; the communal act of writing (not to mention the strict deadlines) makes it purposeful.
I am, however, a big proponent of Writing Conferences. Typically, conferences don't satisfy points one and two of my list (cheap and time consuming), but where they lack in sustained distraction and price, they more than make up in sheer fun. I attended Indiana University's Summer Writing Conference a couple years ago, and it was incredible. For a full week I was immersed, without any outside interfering media -- little internet access, no TV, etc. -- surrounded by nothing but the beautiful Bloomington campus and other passionate, dedicated writers, talking, eating, breathing, and sleeping nothing but writing. In fact, to this day, two out of the three writing group members in my current writing group I met from that conference, both of which are good friends.
Which is why I strongly suggest, for the upcoming winter months, going to the AWP 2009 Conference this year in Chicago, February 11-14, 2009 Why? First, unlike the usual summer conferences at most major schools, the price of admission is only $185 if you aren't a member, $40 if you're a student! That's incredibly cheap. The Indiana Writers Conference was about $500 to participate, and ran me about $1,000 total for room, board, transportation, and food. Second, check out the schedule of events starting Thursday. Over a hundred events for just one day. Interested in readings by alumni from the University of Michigan? They got that. Want to learn about censorship in creative writing? They got that too. The graphic novel as a literary form? Ditto. Friday and Saturday's schedules are more of the same. Just the idea of wall to wall seminars on nothing but writing, writing, writing for three straight days makes me salivate.
So that's what I'll be doing. It was a stroke of fortune for me to have this year's AWP Conference in Chicago (free room and board). But even then, I think you'd be doing yourself a disservice missing out on this conference if you can afford it, especially considering how much cheaper it is than most summer conferences. And if you can't afford it? Well... there's always the Creative Writing course down the street.
With the very large likelihood of staring down a long, bitterly cold, two-three month winter before hearing anything from the thirteen schools I had applied to, I figured it would be a good exercise, maybe even therapeutic, to take up some kind of activity in the interim to busy myself. But what kind of activities? I made a list of requirements (because I love lists so much) that a potential activity had to fulfill:
1. It had to be cheap.
2. It had to be time consuming.
3. One of the activities has to be in the realm of writing.
I think the third point is the most important. As a default, I think we all realize that writing is naturally going to be one of the things that we pick right up when our applications are all finished. It occupies us. It's what we do. At the same time (and I don't think I'd be alone in saying this), unless you're the kind of person has tremendous amount of self-motivation, writing in this time of year, especially when all we can think about is how and when schools will accept or reject us, is a very difficult prospect. Making writing fun again through some kind of activity is a necessity.
The most obvious way to do this is taking some Creative Writing classes. Something local is always convenient, and if you live in a big enough city, you can probably find some form of "Continuing Studies" Creative Writing courses at the major university, and to a lesser extent, at the community college. But are they any good? It depends. I've taken my fair share of Creative Writing classes at nearly every level of college, except graduate -- I've taken classes as an undergrad at Purdue, as a post-grad student at the Graham School of Continuing Studies (Chicago University), and community college classes at the College of Lake County. To be completely honest, the only class that had any "meat" on it was the one I took as an undergrad at Purdue, and even then, I don't know how much of an honest assessment that is, since I was just starting out as a writer. The main problem with every other class I've taken (and I suppose you could include my Purdue experience in there as well) is that these courses are intended for beginners. They were the kinds of courses where by halfway through the semester only half of the students showed up (the ones who hadn't had their stories critiqued in class yet), and where we were still learning the mantra of "show, don't tell." It's an unfortunate fact, as "Fiction II" or "Advanced Creative Writing" courses are, in my experience, far and few between.
I don't want to say there isn't any value in beginning-level courses. On a community-level, it's a great place to meet other writers. Sure, you'll bump into a lot of beginners the majority of which don't even stick with writing, but once in a while, you'll run into other passionate, outstanding writers. All of the people in my first writing group came from the Graham School class. It's also a great way to simply get started writing again; the communal act of writing (not to mention the strict deadlines) makes it purposeful.
I am, however, a big proponent of Writing Conferences. Typically, conferences don't satisfy points one and two of my list (cheap and time consuming), but where they lack in sustained distraction and price, they more than make up in sheer fun. I attended Indiana University's Summer Writing Conference a couple years ago, and it was incredible. For a full week I was immersed, without any outside interfering media -- little internet access, no TV, etc. -- surrounded by nothing but the beautiful Bloomington campus and other passionate, dedicated writers, talking, eating, breathing, and sleeping nothing but writing. In fact, to this day, two out of the three writing group members in my current writing group I met from that conference, both of which are good friends.
Which is why I strongly suggest, for the upcoming winter months, going to the AWP 2009 Conference this year in Chicago, February 11-14, 2009 Why? First, unlike the usual summer conferences at most major schools, the price of admission is only $185 if you aren't a member, $40 if you're a student! That's incredibly cheap. The Indiana Writers Conference was about $500 to participate, and ran me about $1,000 total for room, board, transportation, and food. Second, check out the schedule of events starting Thursday. Over a hundred events for just one day. Interested in readings by alumni from the University of Michigan? They got that. Want to learn about censorship in creative writing? They got that too. The graphic novel as a literary form? Ditto. Friday and Saturday's schedules are more of the same. Just the idea of wall to wall seminars on nothing but writing, writing, writing for three straight days makes me salivate.
So that's what I'll be doing. It was a stroke of fortune for me to have this year's AWP Conference in Chicago (free room and board). But even then, I think you'd be doing yourself a disservice missing out on this conference if you can afford it, especially considering how much cheaper it is than most summer conferences. And if you can't afford it? Well... there's always the Creative Writing course down the street.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
$1,138
School is expensive. We all know that. But with a little luck and a lot of preparation, school is something we won't have to pay a dime for. Yet, looking over my last two month's credit card bills, I've come to realize that the actual act of applying to schools is pretty darn expensive too. Thirteen schools, thirteen application fees. GRE test fees. Training materials. Mailing applications through priority mail. It all adds up. Consider my application fees alone:
Columbia College - $35
Roosevelt University - $25
Notre Dame - $35
University of Michigan - $60
John Hopkins - $75
Syracuse - $75
Ohio State University - $40
Washington University (St. Louis) - $45
University of Illinois - $60
University of Iowa - $60
Indiana University - $50
Western Michigan - $40
Purdue University - $55
Thirteen schools, thirteen application fees for a total of $655. Wow. But the fun doesn't stop there. Let's look at all the fees associated with the GREs:
GRE Test - $140 to take the test once, which I did.
GRE Scores Reports - Four school reports were free, but anything over that was extra. Extra score reports will cost you $20 a pop. It's a freaking scam, but you can read my earlier posts to get an idea on how I feel about the ETS. I had to send score reports for 11 schools, which means I paid for seven schools, for a total of $140.
Miscellaneous testing materials - I spent a bit on extra preparation materials. I bought Barron's GRE Test Prep, which was $25, access to tests on MyGRETutor.com, which was $5, and the tests on 800score.com, which was $20. All for a total of $50.
So that brings the GRE fees to a total of $330. And we're not done just yet. Mailing the applications was also a surprising amount of change too:
Materials - Manila folders, new printer cartridge, envelopes, mailing labels, and a whole ream of printing paper. Total: approximately $75.
Priority mail through USPS - I mailed each application over priority mail using the USPS, which provided a nice confirmation number for each application to let me know when each was mailed. They ran approximately $6 each, which was $78.
Okay. So let's total this up. Application fees - $655. GRE fees - $330. Mailing fees - $153. Total: $1,138. Yep. That's over a grand.
I'm sure I've missed some miscellaneous fees. Paper, research materials, etc. But this rough estimation is probably a fairly accurate total. Happily, I can say that I can afford this. I have a great full time job with benefits and I get paid pretty well. The question is, how in the world can anyone else afford this? What about the part-timer? What about the student who just comes out of undergraduate school, with a boatload of loans to pay back? What about the person who's working on a minimum wage without benefits? Great writers come from all walks of life. Yet at an average of $88 a school, it's unfortunate that only the privileged can truly afford to apply to school without sacrificing an arm and a leg. And all of this is, of course, with no guarantee of admission.
The point? I don't really have one, I guess. I wanted to complain, mainly, about the time and effort and money invested into all of this, with the very large possibility of no admission. But then, looking at this extraordinarily large total -- $1,138 -- and then looking at how easily I was able to afford it... the thought makes me thankful.
Columbia College - $35
Roosevelt University - $25
Notre Dame - $35
University of Michigan - $60
John Hopkins - $75
Syracuse - $75
Ohio State University - $40
Washington University (St. Louis) - $45
University of Illinois - $60
University of Iowa - $60
Indiana University - $50
Western Michigan - $40
Purdue University - $55
Thirteen schools, thirteen application fees for a total of $655. Wow. But the fun doesn't stop there. Let's look at all the fees associated with the GREs:
GRE Test - $140 to take the test once, which I did.
GRE Scores Reports - Four school reports were free, but anything over that was extra. Extra score reports will cost you $20 a pop. It's a freaking scam, but you can read my earlier posts to get an idea on how I feel about the ETS. I had to send score reports for 11 schools, which means I paid for seven schools, for a total of $140.
Miscellaneous testing materials - I spent a bit on extra preparation materials. I bought Barron's GRE Test Prep, which was $25, access to tests on MyGRETutor.com, which was $5, and the tests on 800score.com, which was $20. All for a total of $50.
So that brings the GRE fees to a total of $330. And we're not done just yet. Mailing the applications was also a surprising amount of change too:
Materials - Manila folders, new printer cartridge, envelopes, mailing labels, and a whole ream of printing paper. Total: approximately $75.
Priority mail through USPS - I mailed each application over priority mail using the USPS, which provided a nice confirmation number for each application to let me know when each was mailed. They ran approximately $6 each, which was $78.
Okay. So let's total this up. Application fees - $655. GRE fees - $330. Mailing fees - $153. Total: $1,138. Yep. That's over a grand.
I'm sure I've missed some miscellaneous fees. Paper, research materials, etc. But this rough estimation is probably a fairly accurate total. Happily, I can say that I can afford this. I have a great full time job with benefits and I get paid pretty well. The question is, how in the world can anyone else afford this? What about the part-timer? What about the student who just comes out of undergraduate school, with a boatload of loans to pay back? What about the person who's working on a minimum wage without benefits? Great writers come from all walks of life. Yet at an average of $88 a school, it's unfortunate that only the privileged can truly afford to apply to school without sacrificing an arm and a leg. And all of this is, of course, with no guarantee of admission.
The point? I don't really have one, I guess. I wanted to complain, mainly, about the time and effort and money invested into all of this, with the very large possibility of no admission. But then, looking at this extraordinarily large total -- $1,138 -- and then looking at how easily I was able to afford it... the thought makes me thankful.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
John Hopkins Statement of Purpose
Ten of my thirteen applications are now in the bag and mailed off, with two of them (Roosevelt University and Columbia College) having due dates on February 2nd. So as of this post, I'm currently staring down John Hopkins as my last application to finish before I can start to relax again. The word "relax" used in this way is a relative term, of course, as I expect to be a nervous wreck waiting to hear back from schools over the next few months, but that's another post for another day.
So this is what John Hopkins wants in a Statement of Purpose, as requested from their website: "MFA applicants should include in their writing sample a two-page introduction and critique of their work. This statement should give admissions faculty a view to the scope and thoughtfulness of the work submitted and a sense of the student's ability to contribute in the writing workshops."
My first thought when reading this request: Weird. Possibly the weirdest hoop any school has asked me to jump through so far, and that's including the University of Michigan asking me to scan a copy of my undergraduate transcript and upload it to their online application. At first glance, though strange, John Hopkins' request to, in essence, "critique" your own writing seems simple enough, especially for those of us who've been in dedicated writing groups or have taken creative writing classes. I've probably done this same exercise for other people's stories a few dozen times, if not more. And I do pride myself in giving what I think is insightful and meaningful feedback. If nothing else, I always want writers who read my feedback to know I've actually taken the time to read and absorb their stories.
It sounds like an easy enough exercise, right? Maybe. What I've noticed in my half-assed attempts at critiquing my own pieces is that it's incredibly hard to tune out that little voice who questions every sentence I write. "Does that sound too arrogant?" "Is this analysis correct?" "Should I be more confident in my voice here?" First, I'm deathly afraid of sounding like amateur hour when writing anything theory-related when it comes to analysis in this context. Especially when dealing with a school with as much academic prestige as John Hopkins. Second, I've found that in contrast to writing critiques for other people, it's startlingly difficult to bluntly state criticism or praise as simple fact. To me, it feels like there's a strange sort of "presumptuousness" in doing so. The last thing I'd want is to make a number of assumptions about my story that would make the applications committee scratch their heads or disagree with.
I know I'm being ridiculous. Analysis and assumption is precisely what they're looking for. They want us to "give admissions faculty a view to the scope and thoughtfulness of the work submitted and a sense of the student's ability to contribute in the writing workshops." That sounds like a critique to me. To be anything other authoritative and an expert of your own story would be shortchanging yourself.
So this is what John Hopkins wants in a Statement of Purpose, as requested from their website: "MFA applicants should include in their writing sample a two-page introduction and critique of their work. This statement should give admissions faculty a view to the scope and thoughtfulness of the work submitted and a sense of the student's ability to contribute in the writing workshops."
My first thought when reading this request: Weird. Possibly the weirdest hoop any school has asked me to jump through so far, and that's including the University of Michigan asking me to scan a copy of my undergraduate transcript and upload it to their online application. At first glance, though strange, John Hopkins' request to, in essence, "critique" your own writing seems simple enough, especially for those of us who've been in dedicated writing groups or have taken creative writing classes. I've probably done this same exercise for other people's stories a few dozen times, if not more. And I do pride myself in giving what I think is insightful and meaningful feedback. If nothing else, I always want writers who read my feedback to know I've actually taken the time to read and absorb their stories.
It sounds like an easy enough exercise, right? Maybe. What I've noticed in my half-assed attempts at critiquing my own pieces is that it's incredibly hard to tune out that little voice who questions every sentence I write. "Does that sound too arrogant?" "Is this analysis correct?" "Should I be more confident in my voice here?" First, I'm deathly afraid of sounding like amateur hour when writing anything theory-related when it comes to analysis in this context. Especially when dealing with a school with as much academic prestige as John Hopkins. Second, I've found that in contrast to writing critiques for other people, it's startlingly difficult to bluntly state criticism or praise as simple fact. To me, it feels like there's a strange sort of "presumptuousness" in doing so. The last thing I'd want is to make a number of assumptions about my story that would make the applications committee scratch their heads or disagree with.
I know I'm being ridiculous. Analysis and assumption is precisely what they're looking for. They want us to "give admissions faculty a view to the scope and thoughtfulness of the work submitted and a sense of the student's ability to contribute in the writing workshops." That sounds like a critique to me. To be anything other authoritative and an expert of your own story would be shortchanging yourself.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Mistakes
It had to happen sooner or later. With eight out of my 13 school portfolios currently in the mail, I finally found a typo in one of my stories. Even worse, the way in which I found the typo was especially excruciating. I was casually reading a random section -- the last two pages of my second portfolio story -- when I got the second to last sentence, and read: "She felt the weight of his head come against on her shoulder." Horrible. You read and reread your story a bajillion times to proof for these kinds of things, and when you're nearly free and clear, you find an error sitting there, poking you in the face, in a read-through that is entirely random. The worst part of it all was the randomness in how I found the error. If I had chosen any other section to read, then what? If I hadn't decided to review my story for fun, then what? I would've been oblivious, thinking that everything was okay, and the reviewers would've been reading my story, thinking that I couldn't even cobble a simple sentence together.
Okay. So I'm exaggerating. I know this error won't sink me. After a couple days of pulling my hair out, I've finally come to my senses, and certainly understand that in the entire scheme of things, this isn't a big deal. Of all the thousands of words we write for the dozens of applications and forms we fill out, this is but a drop in the bucket. And never mind the fact that we're talking about maybe a couple thousand other applicants with their thousands of words and dozens of forms. Errors happen. If a school likes your work, and as long as you're not making ten grammatical mistakes a page, then they'll give you a chance. I understand this. But to have an error come at the very last part of the second to last sentence of my last story... Man, does that suck. And as a matter of principle, I can't help but to be angry at myself. You work so hard for so long, planning and planning, just to have something like this happen -- and you really can't blame anyone but yourself. And that's probably the worst part.
Okay. So I'm exaggerating. I know this error won't sink me. After a couple days of pulling my hair out, I've finally come to my senses, and certainly understand that in the entire scheme of things, this isn't a big deal. Of all the thousands of words we write for the dozens of applications and forms we fill out, this is but a drop in the bucket. And never mind the fact that we're talking about maybe a couple thousand other applicants with their thousands of words and dozens of forms. Errors happen. If a school likes your work, and as long as you're not making ten grammatical mistakes a page, then they'll give you a chance. I understand this. But to have an error come at the very last part of the second to last sentence of my last story... Man, does that suck. And as a matter of principle, I can't help but to be angry at myself. You work so hard for so long, planning and planning, just to have something like this happen -- and you really can't blame anyone but yourself. And that's probably the worst part.
The List, Part Two
I neglected to mention in my last post that I consider Roosevelt and Columbia College as my backup schools. While I understand there’s no such thing as a “safety” school, I also know that the competition for schools without significant (if any) funding is vastly lower. This is definitely the case for most major metropolitan schools -- schools located in NY, Chicago, and San Francisco -- and as such, one can see that their acceptance rates (taken from Seth Abramson’s Suburban Ecstasies) are much more forgiving, with Columbia College running at about 16%, for example. Why? Major cities have built-in populations from where they can pull potential applicants. In contrast, it’s easy to imagine how schools in tiny towns such as Bloomington, IN or Champaign, IL lack that natural population advantage. To attract talent, small towns have to develop and offer outstanding funding to compensate.
This isn’t necessarily an indictment on the quality of schools in major cities. Columbia College, Roosevelt, and Northwestern’s are fine programs. Yet one can see where the bulk of applications go every year. They follow the money. And why shouldn’t they? As Tom Kealey says, unless you’re independently wealthy, there’s no good reason to go into debt for an MFA degree.
So with that in mind, the rest of my list is heavily based on funding. Of the remaining 11 schools, eight of them provide full or near full funding. The other three provide significant funding (one of them Iowa). Here they are:
Notre Dame
University of Michigan
John Hopkins
Syracuse University
Ohio State University
Washington University (in St. Louis)
University of Illinois
Iowa University
Indiana University
Western Michigan University
Purdue University
This isn’t necessarily an indictment on the quality of schools in major cities. Columbia College, Roosevelt, and Northwestern’s are fine programs. Yet one can see where the bulk of applications go every year. They follow the money. And why shouldn’t they? As Tom Kealey says, unless you’re independently wealthy, there’s no good reason to go into debt for an MFA degree.
So with that in mind, the rest of my list is heavily based on funding. Of the remaining 11 schools, eight of them provide full or near full funding. The other three provide significant funding (one of them Iowa). Here they are:
Notre Dame
University of Michigan
John Hopkins
Syracuse University
Ohio State University
Washington University (in St. Louis)
University of Illinois
Iowa University
Indiana University
Western Michigan University
Purdue University
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Starting Over
So I've been missing in action for a little over a month now, and thought it would be nice to give the blog an update or two. Where have I been? Applying to schools, like everyone else. Suffice to say, I vastly underestimated the amount of time and energy it'd take me to even begin the application process. I've researched and prepared for this busy month for over a year to make sure I had all my ducks in a row come application season, and yet it wasn't enough. It's definitely one of those situations where you don't realize the enormity of the task in front of you until you actually do it.
At any rate, things are getting better. Slightly. I now have a little breathing room, and as of today, five of my 14 applications are in the mail, with another four set to be finished by this weekend. Being absent for a month was not what I had in mind, and by now, I'm sure much of my experiences/advice is moot for the people who've already finished applications. But that doesn't mean we can't talk about it, or even better, agonize over what we could've done/should've done, while waiting anxiously for the next two and a half months, driving our loved ones up the walls. At least, that's what I have planned for the holidays. Cheers!
At any rate, things are getting better. Slightly. I now have a little breathing room, and as of today, five of my 14 applications are in the mail, with another four set to be finished by this weekend. Being absent for a month was not what I had in mind, and by now, I'm sure much of my experiences/advice is moot for the people who've already finished applications. But that doesn't mean we can't talk about it, or even better, agonize over what we could've done/should've done, while waiting anxiously for the next two and a half months, driving our loved ones up the walls. At least, that's what I have planned for the holidays. Cheers!
Saturday, November 1, 2008
The Statement of Purpose, Post-Halloween Edition
How important is the SOP really? An important question, I think, to put things into perspective and to save yourself from potentially unnecessary stress. Based on what I've found, not as much as you think. Okay, so you can't come off arrogant or crazy or unable to write, but let's look at the facts. The first thing the vast majority of the programs will do is read your manuscript. It's something that I've read over and over again from a dozen different sources, and it makes sense as a rule. As a program you'll want to give due diligence to the most important aspect of an application before anything else; you'll want to give talent and ability -- what have you -- a first shot above everything else. Programs want that next star writer, they crave it. If a selection committee has gotten past your manuscript enough to give your SOP a chance, then you're already miles ahead of most everyone else -- i.e., the people whose manuscripts have already been disregarded.
So where does that leave the SOP? I've made it a habit of collecting SOPs from kind souls who have offered theirs online or personally (people who've been accepted and attend programs like Johns Hopkins, Western Michigan, Illinois University), and have come to the conclusion that there are two kinds of "basic" SOP styles. The first kind is the standard "business letter" approach. You state your goals for wanting to go to a particular program, outline your accomplishments and achievements, and mention why you'd be such a great addition to their community. It's a lot like a cover letter for a job, except longer, with perhaps a little more background information. The second kind of SOP is the "story" approach. A little quirky in practice, this method tries to charm the reader with a lot more personal, biographic information, told in a more casual voice. And of course, there are those that fall in between.
Quite a range, as one can see. And yet, all (I have five in total) of my examples of SOPs from ex-applicants are people who have gotten into some very good, reputable schools. I think this is valuable to realize because it shows there isn't a one-size-fits all kind of thought here. The plain truth of the matter is that if a school is reading your SOP, then they've already read your manuscript, and will plan to read your letters of rec, comb through your transcript, glance at your GRE scores. Basically, they've gotten to a point where they like your work, and are past the point of "Is this person talented enough?" and have moved to "Is this person a good fit?" It's an important distinction because your goals and SOP will be vastly different if your primary worry is to impress the committee rather than to convince them that you'd be a good, humble, and willing student.
So. My rules of thumb for the SOP: Be genuine (credited to my girlfriend). Be proud of your accomplishments. But be modest. Be willing to learn. Be generous with compliments to the program in question. And most of all, be honest.
So where does that leave the SOP? I've made it a habit of collecting SOPs from kind souls who have offered theirs online or personally (people who've been accepted and attend programs like Johns Hopkins, Western Michigan, Illinois University), and have come to the conclusion that there are two kinds of "basic" SOP styles. The first kind is the standard "business letter" approach. You state your goals for wanting to go to a particular program, outline your accomplishments and achievements, and mention why you'd be such a great addition to their community. It's a lot like a cover letter for a job, except longer, with perhaps a little more background information. The second kind of SOP is the "story" approach. A little quirky in practice, this method tries to charm the reader with a lot more personal, biographic information, told in a more casual voice. And of course, there are those that fall in between.
Quite a range, as one can see. And yet, all (I have five in total) of my examples of SOPs from ex-applicants are people who have gotten into some very good, reputable schools. I think this is valuable to realize because it shows there isn't a one-size-fits all kind of thought here. The plain truth of the matter is that if a school is reading your SOP, then they've already read your manuscript, and will plan to read your letters of rec, comb through your transcript, glance at your GRE scores. Basically, they've gotten to a point where they like your work, and are past the point of "Is this person talented enough?" and have moved to "Is this person a good fit?" It's an important distinction because your goals and SOP will be vastly different if your primary worry is to impress the committee rather than to convince them that you'd be a good, humble, and willing student.
So. My rules of thumb for the SOP: Be genuine (credited to my girlfriend). Be proud of your accomplishments. But be modest. Be willing to learn. Be generous with compliments to the program in question. And most of all, be honest.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Happy Halloween
No MFA-related information today, but here are a couple funny Halloween-related links:
someecards.com, Halloween edition. Send these to your friends, and they will applaud your wittiness.
Who doesn't love The Onion?
What will I be doing this Halloween? Probably writing some Statements of Purpose. Yes, I know how to have fun.
someecards.com, Halloween edition. Send these to your friends, and they will applaud your wittiness.
Who doesn't love The Onion?
What will I be doing this Halloween? Probably writing some Statements of Purpose. Yes, I know how to have fun.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Standard Operating Procedures
I like to procrastinate as much as the next person: for example, I have this daily compulsion that involves looking through my list of potential schools, which brings me great comfort, and manages to feel like I'm doing work, without ever having done anything. But as the days go by, and as the month of December and January edge incrementally closer, I find the solace I used to get from list-looking is growing less and less, replaced by... well, panic. The culprit? Statements of Purpose.
On paper, the SOP seems easy enough. Let's take University of Indiana's blurb on what they want from your SOP: " There is no single formula for personal statements. Your personal statement is how you introduce yourself to us-not only as a writer but also as a human being. We want to hear an honest voice, and one that shares our commitment to writing and learning about writing. We want to discern whether the applicant will be a productive and valuable member of our MFA program." Simple, right? But in that seemingly innocuous statement, there lies a maddeningly open requirement: there are no requirements. Talk about whatever you want; tell us about yourself. Well, that's great. There are about a hundred things I could say, a hundred reasons why your program should take me. This represents the most intimidating kind of SOP requirement, in my opinion -- the one that asks you to simply "impress us." Do I talk about my background and how it has informed my writing? What about the writing community and how important it is to me? What about my education, my major, my time in college? Or how about the time spent away from school, how I've take creative writing classes and have been part of the same writing group for the past two years? Or should I just smoosh it all together? I've written and rewritten probably four or five drafts this kind of SOP, each one vastly different from another, and I currently still have no idea where I'm going to go.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, there's the school that will ask you, very specifically, what they want from the SOP. Consider the University of Illinois' blurb: "This statement should be a precise and powerfully written intellectual biography. What writers or authors, courses, literary works, critical texts have influenced you? What critical questions, historical or national issues, disciplinary or interdisciplinary interests do you hope to pursue in graduate school and beyond? Why? Why at Illinois in particular?" Very specific, and in many ways, much easier to write. But an issue rears its head when dealing with this kind of SOP: it becomes much more difficult to slot in a SOP from one school to another. The questions you answer and the specific praise that you lavish on the University of Illinois does not easily translate to Syracuse's SOP or Ohio State's SOP. Depending on the specificity of what those schools ask of your SOP, you will find yourself tooling and retooling that 500-600 word essay over and over and over again.
All part of the job, I know. Schools expect this, and quite frankly the moment you decide to apply to grad school, you should expect this. But the sheer number of different SOPs carefully tailored for over a dozen different schools is incredibly intimidating and brings chills down my spine. A month and half until the first application is due? Procrastination. I'm good at that.
On paper, the SOP seems easy enough. Let's take University of Indiana's blurb on what they want from your SOP: " There is no single formula for personal statements. Your personal statement is how you introduce yourself to us-not only as a writer but also as a human being. We want to hear an honest voice, and one that shares our commitment to writing and learning about writing. We want to discern whether the applicant will be a productive and valuable member of our MFA program." Simple, right? But in that seemingly innocuous statement, there lies a maddeningly open requirement: there are no requirements. Talk about whatever you want; tell us about yourself. Well, that's great. There are about a hundred things I could say, a hundred reasons why your program should take me. This represents the most intimidating kind of SOP requirement, in my opinion -- the one that asks you to simply "impress us." Do I talk about my background and how it has informed my writing? What about the writing community and how important it is to me? What about my education, my major, my time in college? Or how about the time spent away from school, how I've take creative writing classes and have been part of the same writing group for the past two years? Or should I just smoosh it all together? I've written and rewritten probably four or five drafts this kind of SOP, each one vastly different from another, and I currently still have no idea where I'm going to go.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, there's the school that will ask you, very specifically, what they want from the SOP. Consider the University of Illinois' blurb: "This statement should be a precise and powerfully written intellectual biography. What writers or authors, courses, literary works, critical texts have influenced you? What critical questions, historical or national issues, disciplinary or interdisciplinary interests do you hope to pursue in graduate school and beyond? Why? Why at Illinois in particular?" Very specific, and in many ways, much easier to write. But an issue rears its head when dealing with this kind of SOP: it becomes much more difficult to slot in a SOP from one school to another. The questions you answer and the specific praise that you lavish on the University of Illinois does not easily translate to Syracuse's SOP or Ohio State's SOP. Depending on the specificity of what those schools ask of your SOP, you will find yourself tooling and retooling that 500-600 word essay over and over and over again.
All part of the job, I know. Schools expect this, and quite frankly the moment you decide to apply to grad school, you should expect this. But the sheer number of different SOPs carefully tailored for over a dozen different schools is incredibly intimidating and brings chills down my spine. A month and half until the first application is due? Procrastination. I'm good at that.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Purdue's Funding
An excellent post on the MFA Blog on Purdue's funding for their Creative Writing students, which you can find here. Best of all, it's straight from the Associate Director of Purdue's Creative Writing program, so you can pretty much take it as gospel.
As to the stipend amount, $13,000 is definitely livable, and up to $19,000 is downright comfortable. The key is the cost of living in West Lafayette, which is incredibly low. When I was an undergrad at Purdue, I lived in what was considered some very swanky accommodations location-wise (extremely close to campus), and paid barely more than $500 a month. You could easily get into the $400 range if you consider housing off of campus. Plus, everything is cheap. Food is cheap, utilities are cheap, even the bars are cheap. If memory serves me correctly, they have 25-cent beer nights at the Cactus bar on Tuesdays... but don't quote me on that.
It's all nice, if you can get it. Consider Purdue's Creative Writing admission rates in 2007, per Seth Abramson's admissions writeup: 100 applications, 4 acceptances. And that's for Fiction alone. Yikes. That's a 4% acceptance rate in 2007. 2009? Probably lower, to be completely honest. If you just double the amount of applications (something I can see happening very easily), then you're looking at a 2% acceptance rate. Programs like Purdue, which offer stellar funding for their students, have and will continue to get all kinds of press -- the posting on the MFA blog, the large mention in Poets & Writers article, and so on. That Purdue had only gotten 100 applications in 2007 shows how much of an unknown it was just a few years ago, yet how incredibly competitive it was and will still further become.
As to the stipend amount, $13,000 is definitely livable, and up to $19,000 is downright comfortable. The key is the cost of living in West Lafayette, which is incredibly low. When I was an undergrad at Purdue, I lived in what was considered some very swanky accommodations location-wise (extremely close to campus), and paid barely more than $500 a month. You could easily get into the $400 range if you consider housing off of campus. Plus, everything is cheap. Food is cheap, utilities are cheap, even the bars are cheap. If memory serves me correctly, they have 25-cent beer nights at the Cactus bar on Tuesdays... but don't quote me on that.
It's all nice, if you can get it. Consider Purdue's Creative Writing admission rates in 2007, per Seth Abramson's admissions writeup: 100 applications, 4 acceptances. And that's for Fiction alone. Yikes. That's a 4% acceptance rate in 2007. 2009? Probably lower, to be completely honest. If you just double the amount of applications (something I can see happening very easily), then you're looking at a 2% acceptance rate. Programs like Purdue, which offer stellar funding for their students, have and will continue to get all kinds of press -- the posting on the MFA blog, the large mention in Poets & Writers article, and so on. That Purdue had only gotten 100 applications in 2007 shows how much of an unknown it was just a few years ago, yet how incredibly competitive it was and will still further become.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
The MFA -- What is it good for?
Poking around the Poets & Writers Speakeasy Forums, I found an interesting active thread here (you'll have to register on the forum to read the thread) discussing the "value" of an MFA in Creative Writing. Actually, it originally started out as a thread on how editors and committees select pieces for their magazines, but then sort of morphed (as all threads invariably do) into something entirely different. The discussion on the value of writing programs was very interesting, in my opinion. As one poster notes: "...I've always been a Cassandra, but here goes. The housing boom and bust. The mortgage boom and bust. The investment banking boom and bust. The MFA in Creative Writing boom and bust. The line cannot hold. In a lot of ways, I believe the MFA in CW to be a rather decadent pursuit. It is born of a society that is willing and able to pay out thousands for the time off and writing community... that can be gotten for far less."
Good points, I think. I've harbored these same thoughts for some time. And the word "decadent" especially hits the nail on the head for me. What substantiave gain will an MFA in Creative Writing get you, at the end of the day? A teaching position at a University? No, especially since most positions require one or two book publications in order to be seriously considered. Publication? Hardly. Potential and two quarters is still just fifty cents. While a program may invest in your potential, may give you the tools, the resources, the environment to succeed, publication is still an area in which all writers will have incredible odds stacked against them -- all this, assuming you even put in the time and effort to sell yourself. At most, an MFA in Creative Writing will get you a teaching gig at the high school or community college. Which is fine, but not the same kind of mileage you'd get out of a Masters degree in most any other area -- I mean, look at what an MBA from Harvard will get you, for crying out loud. Which brings me back to the original word: "decadent." An MFA in Creative Writing is a luxury. Who has the time or the energy to transplant their entire life, move to an entirely different city for two, three years? Nevermind the fact if you have a significant other or a family or without the means to pay for school or to move. Not many people can do the things that MFA students can do -- write, read, and teach all day, seven days a week -- even the willing.
Good points, I think. I've harbored these same thoughts for some time. And the word "decadent" especially hits the nail on the head for me. What substantiave gain will an MFA in Creative Writing get you, at the end of the day? A teaching position at a University? No, especially since most positions require one or two book publications in order to be seriously considered. Publication? Hardly. Potential and two quarters is still just fifty cents. While a program may invest in your potential, may give you the tools, the resources, the environment to succeed, publication is still an area in which all writers will have incredible odds stacked against them -- all this, assuming you even put in the time and effort to sell yourself. At most, an MFA in Creative Writing will get you a teaching gig at the high school or community college. Which is fine, but not the same kind of mileage you'd get out of a Masters degree in most any other area -- I mean, look at what an MBA from Harvard will get you, for crying out loud. Which brings me back to the original word: "decadent." An MFA in Creative Writing is a luxury. Who has the time or the energy to transplant their entire life, move to an entirely different city for two, three years? Nevermind the fact if you have a significant other or a family or without the means to pay for school or to move. Not many people can do the things that MFA students can do -- write, read, and teach all day, seven days a week -- even the willing.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Paper or Plastic?
My recommendation materials have been, to quote Stevie Wonder, "signed, sealed, and delivered" to my recommendors and I feel great. You'd think that such a thing would be a simple enough affair -- ask your three people to write you some letters -- but as I found out in my research, recommendations, if done properly and on time, are a complicated affair. Can you accommodate the timeline of all of your recommendors? What level of involvement should you have with your recommendors? Butout of all the questions I had to answer, the one that was the far most difficult to answer was whether I wanted to send the materials to my recommendors by paper or email.
You might notice that nowadays most major schools encourage their applicants to use their online applications. And in general, this is a great idea, for both the school and the applicant. There's little to no paper or ink used, the computerized applications have a far less likely hood of being lost or delayed, etc. These schools even extend their online capabilities to recommendations. It seems simple enough. Just enter your recommendor's information into an online form, and the school's system will email them instructions on how to upload their letters online. Maybe even answer a couple questions. No muss, no fuss, right? Maybe. When I sat down and really thought about what was being asked of each of my recommendors, I began to realize how daunting the process was going to be. I'm applying to fourteen schools -- which means fourteen customized letters, fourteen cover sheets, fourteen different forms or general questions each school is asking. And while it would seem easy enough to put that into email terms -- electronic forms are easier to handle than paper ones, right? -- several problems rear their heads. For starters, if my email inbox is any indication of how most people keep and organize their emails, then I couldn't realistically expect my recommendors to keep track of each of the fourteen emails the schools would be sending them. Plus, we'd be talking about fourteen emails in the span of 1-2 hours (logging into a school's account and filling out all 3 recommendors' information takes at least 5-10 minutes each), not all at once. If I'm sending emails to someone's account over the span of 1-2 hours, then we'd be talking about fourteen emails intermixed with perhaps a dozen or so other personal emails. And on top of all that consider this note, which is a warning that some schools, like Notre Dame and the University of Indiana, put during their email submission process: Please note that notification emails will indicate "University of Notre Dame - the Graduate School" as the sender but will come from support@ApplyYourself.com. If they use a spam-blocking tool, please ask them to add this email address to their list of known/safe addresses. What? Spam-blockers? What kind of email account doesn't have some form of spam blocking software in this day and age? The opportunities for an email or two slipping through the cracks are simply too great.
I understand that at this point, I probably sound like a raving paranoid lunatic, but consider this: Whose job is it to make the process as simple and easy as possible? Whose job is it to make sure all the letters are received and sent on time without fuss? If a school or two falls through the cracks, who's going to worry about it -- you or the recommendor? Certainly, if your recommendor is a decent human being -- and they all are, or we wouldn't ask them to write us words of praise -- then they might ask about where this or that school's email went, but would you really expect them to look out for your big picture? At the end of the day, you are your own greatest advocate. It's as simple as that. And if you don't do the dirty work, if you don't follow up and make sure that what needs to be done actually gets done, then no one else will.
Which is why I decided to go low-tech and send out the letters by paper. One big package, with all fourteen envelopes and the correct cover letters, and one big manila envelope inside for them to mail the entire thing back to me when they're done. And when I get them back, I'll know exactly where they're going and when, and if something goes wrong, it'll be because I didn't do something right. Am I a control freak? Most certainly. But I'd rather put it in my hands than someone else's.
You might notice that nowadays most major schools encourage their applicants to use their online applications. And in general, this is a great idea, for both the school and the applicant. There's little to no paper or ink used, the computerized applications have a far less likely hood of being lost or delayed, etc. These schools even extend their online capabilities to recommendations. It seems simple enough. Just enter your recommendor's information into an online form, and the school's system will email them instructions on how to upload their letters online. Maybe even answer a couple questions. No muss, no fuss, right? Maybe. When I sat down and really thought about what was being asked of each of my recommendors, I began to realize how daunting the process was going to be. I'm applying to fourteen schools -- which means fourteen customized letters, fourteen cover sheets, fourteen different forms or general questions each school is asking. And while it would seem easy enough to put that into email terms -- electronic forms are easier to handle than paper ones, right? -- several problems rear their heads. For starters, if my email inbox is any indication of how most people keep and organize their emails, then I couldn't realistically expect my recommendors to keep track of each of the fourteen emails the schools would be sending them. Plus, we'd be talking about fourteen emails in the span of 1-2 hours (logging into a school's account and filling out all 3 recommendors' information takes at least 5-10 minutes each), not all at once. If I'm sending emails to someone's account over the span of 1-2 hours, then we'd be talking about fourteen emails intermixed with perhaps a dozen or so other personal emails. And on top of all that consider this note, which is a warning that some schools, like Notre Dame and the University of Indiana, put during their email submission process: Please note that notification emails will indicate "University of Notre Dame - the Graduate School" as the sender but will come from support@ApplyYourself.com. If they use a spam-blocking tool, please ask them to add this email address to their list of known/safe addresses. What? Spam-blockers? What kind of email account doesn't have some form of spam blocking software in this day and age? The opportunities for an email or two slipping through the cracks are simply too great.
I understand that at this point, I probably sound like a raving paranoid lunatic, but consider this: Whose job is it to make the process as simple and easy as possible? Whose job is it to make sure all the letters are received and sent on time without fuss? If a school or two falls through the cracks, who's going to worry about it -- you or the recommendor? Certainly, if your recommendor is a decent human being -- and they all are, or we wouldn't ask them to write us words of praise -- then they might ask about where this or that school's email went, but would you really expect them to look out for your big picture? At the end of the day, you are your own greatest advocate. It's as simple as that. And if you don't do the dirty work, if you don't follow up and make sure that what needs to be done actually gets done, then no one else will.
Which is why I decided to go low-tech and send out the letters by paper. One big package, with all fourteen envelopes and the correct cover letters, and one big manila envelope inside for them to mail the entire thing back to me when they're done. And when I get them back, I'll know exactly where they're going and when, and if something goes wrong, it'll be because I didn't do something right. Am I a control freak? Most certainly. But I'd rather put it in my hands than someone else's.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
F is for Funding
I'll have a writeup on the subject of funding one of these days, but here's some required reading, provided by Seth Abramson on the Poets & Writers website. A great article that touches on a lot of the salient points for the discerning MFA applicant -- how one type of funding differs from another, what's important in funding dollars, etc. -- as well as an in-depth look at the top funded programs in the country. An excellent place to get started for your own research on the behemoth that is MFA program funding. And trust me, research is a necessity.
Friday, October 10, 2008
GRE Thoughts, Part Two
Welcome to my random thoughts on the GREs, part two. Part one can be found here. It occurred to me yesterday that I needed to give a little more background to where I'm coming from educationally to give a little bit more perspective on my scores. I graduated from college four years ago from Purdue with a degree in Genetics with a horrible 2.46 GPA. Suffice to say that I have never been a very hard worker. But I've always been a pretty good standardized tester. In the month leading up to my test on September 13, I first took a baseline practice test just to see how badly my verbal skills had declined in college and got a 500-550 score. Following that, I studied semi-regularly on the weekends, taking practice tests, memorizing words. When I was about a week out before the real thing, I went into "hardcore" mode and studied nonstop using the strategies I outlined in my GRE thoughts, part one. Additionally, I did some very light studying on the math and essay sections.
On to the various websites and resources, as promised in my previous post.
Barron's GRE Guide -- This was the first thing I bought in preparation for the test, and was my base resource. It's basically everything you'd expect from a GRE guidebook -- complete with five paper practice tests, one CAT test (on a CD), general study strategies, a "most frequent word" list (weighing in at 333 words), and a much more massive 3,500-word list. To be honest, I have no idea why the 3,500-word list was in there. Unless you buy this book a year to six months outside of the test, there's no way anyone would be able to reliably memorize all those words. And even then, it's not going to cover all the possible words you would potentially see on the test. Simply put, the best way to get that tasty 700+ GRE score is to be generally well read -- something that comes from decades of reading regularly. For the more realistic studier, the "most frequent word" list was by and far the most valuable thing in the book (and something that is in every respectable GRE guidebook -- Princeton, Kaplan, etc.). As I mentioned in my last post, I saw at least 7-10 words on test that were on the list, a larger portion than I would've expected. Memorize that list. At the end of it all, I took all the paper practice tests and the CAT test on the CD-Rom, and got scores consistently in the 600-650ish range. The CAT test I scored a 550.
MyGRETutor.com -- I stumbled on this website after I had exhausted all the practice tests that the Baron's guide had to offer. This site has hundreds of test questions (the first ten on each section are free) and one free CAT. There are also four other tests that can be unlocked, as well as the other test questions, for $5. The cheap price of the tests should've been a warning sign, but I didn't do my research and promptly paid to access the rest of the tests. In short, this site is horrible. The practice questions are inexact, vague, and confusing. While I'd never hold the GREs up on a pedestal as paragons of testing standards -- you can always count on their questions as at least definite. It's a very bad sign when you read through the answers of a test and find yourself saying "really?" over and over again. Even worse, there were at least a few grammatical errors on the reading comprehension sections of their tests. So yeah. Not very reputable. To give you an idea of how accurate their internal CAT scoring was, I scored on the five tests as high as 710 and as low as 540.
800score.com -- Frustrated by MyGRETutor.com, I continued to search online for a resource of reputable (and accurate) CATs to practice, and found this site. They're a pure test site, and offer five CATs to download for $20. I did a little bit of research, sampled a little bit of their free test, and went ahead and paid for their product. Much much better. The questions were better worded, more precise, and, most importantly, had answers that did not leave me scratching my head. My test score range was 540 to 600, a much tighter band of numbers, which is indicative of a more accurate test.
The ETS website -- ETS provides two free CATs for download from their website, both of which I scored 630 on. They can be found here. There's not too much to say, except that these tests come straight from the horse's mouth, and (unsurprisingly) yielded the scores that were most similar to my eventual score. A definite download, since they are free (though not really, since you pay through the nose to just take the test, never mind the $20 fee you pay per school to send the test!) and since they will be most representative of the GRE test you'll be taking.
Notice the wide range of scores that I got on each of the CATs above:
Barron's: 550-650
MyGRETutor.com: 540-710
800score.com: 540-600
ETS website: 630
The lesson? The GRE's computer adaptive tests are notoriously difficult to emulate without the exact scoring system utilized by the ETS and without the amount of data that the ETS has at their fingertips. My actual score was 650, which was a bit higher than I expected, but one that makes sense in retrospect. It was the score that was closest to the practice tests provided by the ETS. You'd almost expect the other resources to want to underscore people -- which I believe they do -- because it simply makes sense as a business practice; lower expectations are much easier to deal with than higher ones. So what do we take from this? Find and take as many tests as you can afford. But do your research, and stay away from the poor websites. Interpret your scores with a large grain of salt. And most importantly, have faith in your abilities!
On to the various websites and resources, as promised in my previous post.
Barron's GRE Guide -- This was the first thing I bought in preparation for the test, and was my base resource. It's basically everything you'd expect from a GRE guidebook -- complete with five paper practice tests, one CAT test (on a CD), general study strategies, a "most frequent word" list (weighing in at 333 words), and a much more massive 3,500-word list. To be honest, I have no idea why the 3,500-word list was in there. Unless you buy this book a year to six months outside of the test, there's no way anyone would be able to reliably memorize all those words. And even then, it's not going to cover all the possible words you would potentially see on the test. Simply put, the best way to get that tasty 700+ GRE score is to be generally well read -- something that comes from decades of reading regularly. For the more realistic studier, the "most frequent word" list was by and far the most valuable thing in the book (and something that is in every respectable GRE guidebook -- Princeton, Kaplan, etc.). As I mentioned in my last post, I saw at least 7-10 words on test that were on the list, a larger portion than I would've expected. Memorize that list. At the end of it all, I took all the paper practice tests and the CAT test on the CD-Rom, and got scores consistently in the 600-650ish range. The CAT test I scored a 550.
MyGRETutor.com -- I stumbled on this website after I had exhausted all the practice tests that the Baron's guide had to offer. This site has hundreds of test questions (the first ten on each section are free) and one free CAT. There are also four other tests that can be unlocked, as well as the other test questions, for $5. The cheap price of the tests should've been a warning sign, but I didn't do my research and promptly paid to access the rest of the tests. In short, this site is horrible. The practice questions are inexact, vague, and confusing. While I'd never hold the GREs up on a pedestal as paragons of testing standards -- you can always count on their questions as at least definite. It's a very bad sign when you read through the answers of a test and find yourself saying "really?" over and over again. Even worse, there were at least a few grammatical errors on the reading comprehension sections of their tests. So yeah. Not very reputable. To give you an idea of how accurate their internal CAT scoring was, I scored on the five tests as high as 710 and as low as 540.
800score.com -- Frustrated by MyGRETutor.com, I continued to search online for a resource of reputable (and accurate) CATs to practice, and found this site. They're a pure test site, and offer five CATs to download for $20. I did a little bit of research, sampled a little bit of their free test, and went ahead and paid for their product. Much much better. The questions were better worded, more precise, and, most importantly, had answers that did not leave me scratching my head. My test score range was 540 to 600, a much tighter band of numbers, which is indicative of a more accurate test.
The ETS website -- ETS provides two free CATs for download from their website, both of which I scored 630 on. They can be found here. There's not too much to say, except that these tests come straight from the horse's mouth, and (unsurprisingly) yielded the scores that were most similar to my eventual score. A definite download, since they are free (though not really, since you pay through the nose to just take the test, never mind the $20 fee you pay per school to send the test!) and since they will be most representative of the GRE test you'll be taking.
Notice the wide range of scores that I got on each of the CATs above:
Barron's: 550-650
MyGRETutor.com: 540-710
800score.com: 540-600
ETS website: 630
The lesson? The GRE's computer adaptive tests are notoriously difficult to emulate without the exact scoring system utilized by the ETS and without the amount of data that the ETS has at their fingertips. My actual score was 650, which was a bit higher than I expected, but one that makes sense in retrospect. It was the score that was closest to the practice tests provided by the ETS. You'd almost expect the other resources to want to underscore people -- which I believe they do -- because it simply makes sense as a business practice; lower expectations are much easier to deal with than higher ones. So what do we take from this? Find and take as many tests as you can afford. But do your research, and stay away from the poor websites. Interpret your scores with a large grain of salt. And most importantly, have faith in your abilities!
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
GRE Thoughts
Ah, the GREs. The GREs manage walk the frustrating line of being barely important enough to an application to warrant studying for. Many top schools don’t "require" the GREs, but as some websites gently suggest (like Iowa in this link -- scroll down to point 4 under "Other Notes on Admission and Residency Requirements"), scores can often affect funding. And whenever funding dollars are involved, you can be sure that it is important enough to put time and study into. Some insights and strategies I learned when preparing for the GREs:
I took the test on September 13th, and got a 650 on the Verbal, a 680 on the Math, and a 6.0 on the essay section. Verbal, of course, is the big kahuna of the GREs, and really the only score that the schools will care about. My basic strategy for the Verbal portion consisted of two basic rules:
1) Memorize the "most frequent word" lists provided by any of the Barron's/Kaplan/Princeton study books. This was important to my success. Already have a gigantic vocabulary? Great. You'll do wonderfully on the test, and will have nothing to worry about. But for the rest of us, it’s impractical and unrealistic to even attempt to memorize the 3,500 word lists provided by the preparation books. The "most frequent word" list represents a much more realistic and efficient way of targeting words that you'd be likely to see on a test. My prep book's list was a little over 300 words, which I managed to cram in about two weeks before the test. During the test I recognized at least 7-10 words from that list, which was a significant portion of the test.
2) Take as many practice tests as you can. Myself, I took at least 20 practice tests from a variety of sources. I can’t stress how important it was to me to take those practice tests. As much as the ETS would like you to believe, the GREs are not a measure of practical knowledge, but really a measure of well you can take the GREs. The problems on the Verbal section of the GREs, especially the analogy questions, require a large amount of familiarity to have any kind of success. So in addition to the relearning those baseline strategies you’d use for the SATs or ACTs back in high school (eliminating obvious answers, etc.), I was able to improve my pattern recognition of certain kinds of questions through a ton of repetition. Cramming works.
Another tricky aspect of the GREs is the fact that they are Computer Adaptive Tests (CATs) conducted on computers, as opposed to paper tests. What is a CAT? In essence, it’s a test that “adapts” its question difficulty based on how many questions you answer correctly or incorrectly. The more consecutive questions you get correct on a test, the more difficult a test becomes, and vice versa, all to eventually determine your final score. But there's more than that. Since the test uses the thirty questions to zero in on your score, it tends to weight the first 15 questions more heavily than the last 15. For example, before you answer even one question, your initial score, like everyone else's, will be set on the average of the bell curve of all those who've previously taken the test (somewhere around 400-500). If you answer the first question right, the computer will nudge you up into the tier of questions intended for 500-600 scoring folks, and if you were to get it wrong, the computer will shift you down into the tier for the 300-400 folks. As the test progresses, those large point swings will get smaller and smaller as the computer "figures out" the appropriate level of difficulty of questions for you. By the end of the test, a correct question will only be work 10-20 points each. Keep in mind that while my math above is hypothetical (I don’t really know if the point swings are 100 at the beginning or not), the process is the same.
As you can see, the first 10 or so questions are incredibly important to moving into the highest possible tiers, as you can only move your score so much once you get into the later stages of the test. One of the most common criticisms of the GREs is that the test unfairly punishes those who make mistakes early on without much hope for improvement later. But if you go into the GREs knowing this, you can similarly use this to your advantage. With 30 minutes to answer 30 questions, I knew I wasn't going to get every single question right, but I took the extra time on the first 10 questions to carefully answer them and to make sure that I got as many right as I possibly could. In fact, I probably employed this strategy a little too effectively -- at one point I had about 14 minutes to answer the remaining 20 questions -- and had to really rush in order to answer every single question. I had no doubt I probably answered more questions incorrectly on the second half of the test, yet I still got (in my own estimation) a pretty good score. So while it may feel counterintuitive as a test-taking strategy to front weight your time on the test, it really is something worth thinking about.
In my next post I'll go a little bit deeper into the resources and tests I used for preparation for the GREs.
I took the test on September 13th, and got a 650 on the Verbal, a 680 on the Math, and a 6.0 on the essay section. Verbal, of course, is the big kahuna of the GREs, and really the only score that the schools will care about. My basic strategy for the Verbal portion consisted of two basic rules:
1) Memorize the "most frequent word" lists provided by any of the Barron's/Kaplan/Princeton study books. This was important to my success. Already have a gigantic vocabulary? Great. You'll do wonderfully on the test, and will have nothing to worry about. But for the rest of us, it’s impractical and unrealistic to even attempt to memorize the 3,500 word lists provided by the preparation books. The "most frequent word" list represents a much more realistic and efficient way of targeting words that you'd be likely to see on a test. My prep book's list was a little over 300 words, which I managed to cram in about two weeks before the test. During the test I recognized at least 7-10 words from that list, which was a significant portion of the test.
2) Take as many practice tests as you can. Myself, I took at least 20 practice tests from a variety of sources. I can’t stress how important it was to me to take those practice tests. As much as the ETS would like you to believe, the GREs are not a measure of practical knowledge, but really a measure of well you can take the GREs. The problems on the Verbal section of the GREs, especially the analogy questions, require a large amount of familiarity to have any kind of success. So in addition to the relearning those baseline strategies you’d use for the SATs or ACTs back in high school (eliminating obvious answers, etc.), I was able to improve my pattern recognition of certain kinds of questions through a ton of repetition. Cramming works.
Another tricky aspect of the GREs is the fact that they are Computer Adaptive Tests (CATs) conducted on computers, as opposed to paper tests. What is a CAT? In essence, it’s a test that “adapts” its question difficulty based on how many questions you answer correctly or incorrectly. The more consecutive questions you get correct on a test, the more difficult a test becomes, and vice versa, all to eventually determine your final score. But there's more than that. Since the test uses the thirty questions to zero in on your score, it tends to weight the first 15 questions more heavily than the last 15. For example, before you answer even one question, your initial score, like everyone else's, will be set on the average of the bell curve of all those who've previously taken the test (somewhere around 400-500). If you answer the first question right, the computer will nudge you up into the tier of questions intended for 500-600 scoring folks, and if you were to get it wrong, the computer will shift you down into the tier for the 300-400 folks. As the test progresses, those large point swings will get smaller and smaller as the computer "figures out" the appropriate level of difficulty of questions for you. By the end of the test, a correct question will only be work 10-20 points each. Keep in mind that while my math above is hypothetical (I don’t really know if the point swings are 100 at the beginning or not), the process is the same.
As you can see, the first 10 or so questions are incredibly important to moving into the highest possible tiers, as you can only move your score so much once you get into the later stages of the test. One of the most common criticisms of the GREs is that the test unfairly punishes those who make mistakes early on without much hope for improvement later. But if you go into the GREs knowing this, you can similarly use this to your advantage. With 30 minutes to answer 30 questions, I knew I wasn't going to get every single question right, but I took the extra time on the first 10 questions to carefully answer them and to make sure that I got as many right as I possibly could. In fact, I probably employed this strategy a little too effectively -- at one point I had about 14 minutes to answer the remaining 20 questions -- and had to really rush in order to answer every single question. I had no doubt I probably answered more questions incorrectly on the second half of the test, yet I still got (in my own estimation) a pretty good score. So while it may feel counterintuitive as a test-taking strategy to front weight your time on the test, it really is something worth thinking about.
In my next post I'll go a little bit deeper into the resources and tests I used for preparation for the GREs.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Useful Links and Resources, Part Two
A few more links to some spiffy articles, all published in 2007 by The Atlantic Monthly. The first is a ranking of the "Best of the Best" Creative Writing programs in the United States, found here. It's not as comprehensive as some of the rankings you'd find elsewhere, like on The Suburban Ecstasies, but it's a nice place to start, and is a list based on informal research and interviews conducted by one man, Edward Delaney. The following two links provide the real "meat" of the MFA-related content, found here and here. The first is a sister article that is meant to accompany the "Best of the Best" rankings; it's Mr. Delaney's appraisal of what makes a great Creative Writing program, taking a look at selectivity, funding, faculty, and alumni. The second link is an in-depth interview by The Atlantic of Mr. Delaney's experiences researching Creative Writing programs.
What I found most valuable was reading about Mr. Delaney's experiences as both an insider and an outsider to the process, working as a journalist, a professor, and a writer. He provides a lot of great insights. Enjoy!
What I found most valuable was reading about Mr. Delaney's experiences as both an insider and an outsider to the process, working as a journalist, a professor, and a writer. He provides a lot of great insights. Enjoy!
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Useful Links and Resources
Tom Kealey's The Creative Writing MFA Handbook -- If you're starting the application process from scratch, this is the book to begin with. Lots of great baseline information such as funding, the application process, interviews, advice. Buy this book and read it. It won't give you everything you need to know, but it will give you a place (a very big place) to start. I can't imagine how I could have possibly known where to start without this resource with so many things to prioritize and research.
MFA Blog -- I visit this site on a daily basis. It's the "web version" of the book described above. Contributors post on all subjects relating to the application process -- information on prospective programs, studying for the GREs, etc. There's also a very helpful little community of other fellow applicants who comment regularly. A great extension of Tom Kealey's book.
Poets & Writers Speakeasy Forum -- A forum with a great community. You'll have to register to read and write posts, but it's well worth it. Members are knowledgeable, kind, and more than willing to help. If there's a question to ask, no matter how obscure, you can be sure there's an answer. Important sub-forums to visit: "MFA Programs," "Sending Your Work Out," and "Rejection Letters." I have no doubt that this place will be my home when the prime application months (November, December) and subsequent rejection months (February, March) roll around.
The Suburban Ecstasies -- Seth Abramson's blog, where you come for the incredible resource on MFA programs and stay for the political commentary. On his blog, Seth has compiled an amazing amount of research on MFA Program Rankings for poetry, fiction, and nonfiction, Acceptance Rates, and even Application Response Times. Why? Because he's just a really nice guy. You won't find this kind of information readily available anywhere else on the internet, especially the Acceptance Rates and Response Times. Just click on the link I've provided and in the right-hand bar you'll see all the resources I've described (you may have to scroll down a bit to see all of them).
I'll also put all these links in my "Useful Links and Resources" section on the right-hand bar for quick access.
MFA Blog -- I visit this site on a daily basis. It's the "web version" of the book described above. Contributors post on all subjects relating to the application process -- information on prospective programs, studying for the GREs, etc. There's also a very helpful little community of other fellow applicants who comment regularly. A great extension of Tom Kealey's book.
Poets & Writers Speakeasy Forum -- A forum with a great community. You'll have to register to read and write posts, but it's well worth it. Members are knowledgeable, kind, and more than willing to help. If there's a question to ask, no matter how obscure, you can be sure there's an answer. Important sub-forums to visit: "MFA Programs," "Sending Your Work Out," and "Rejection Letters." I have no doubt that this place will be my home when the prime application months (November, December) and subsequent rejection months (February, March) roll around.
The Suburban Ecstasies -- Seth Abramson's blog, where you come for the incredible resource on MFA programs and stay for the political commentary. On his blog, Seth has compiled an amazing amount of research on MFA Program Rankings for poetry, fiction, and nonfiction, Acceptance Rates, and even Application Response Times. Why? Because he's just a really nice guy. You won't find this kind of information readily available anywhere else on the internet, especially the Acceptance Rates and Response Times. Just click on the link I've provided and in the right-hand bar you'll see all the resources I've described (you may have to scroll down a bit to see all of them).
I'll also put all these links in my "Useful Links and Resources" section on the right-hand bar for quick access.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
The Experience Factor
In last week's post, which can be found here, I missed one point in my "The case for:" section. Namely, it's a good thing that I've been out of college for four years before applying to an MFA in Creative Writing. But why? Why wouldn't I want to get cracking at that next Great American Novel™ as soon as possible? Why in the world would I, anyone, want to waste their time not doing the single most thing they love?
Here's the problem. When I graduated, my writing wasn't very good. Which is an obvious point. No one's writing ever is good the first time around. And that's the reason why you apply to grad school in the first place -- to grow, to write, to learn. But the thing is, I managed to do all those things in my time out of school. I improved. Probably not with the same intensity or rigor that only school can provide, but I learned a whole lot of other stuff in the meantime. Stuff like working an 8-5 job I hated. Working an 8-5 job I enjoyed. Traveling to Prague. Making new friends. Going to writing conferences. Joining writing groups. Traveling to Hong Kong. I could go on. My point is, there's a bit of wisdom and value in being outside of the sheltered academic world. I can say without hesitation that I was able to do a lot of things I couldn't do in school.
Simply put, I wasn't ready at 22 -- both in writing ability and maturity. Yet, what's right for me isn't right for everyone. I understand that. Some people are ready the moment they get out of undergrad. Some people need ten years. Others fifteen. There's no magic number. And I'm not even sure that four is the magic number for me. Maybe I should have applied last year. Maybe I need to mature and develop as a writer for a couple more years. I don't know. All I know is that it feels right, and at the end of the day, it's really all we can ever go by.
Here's the problem. When I graduated, my writing wasn't very good. Which is an obvious point. No one's writing ever is good the first time around. And that's the reason why you apply to grad school in the first place -- to grow, to write, to learn. But the thing is, I managed to do all those things in my time out of school. I improved. Probably not with the same intensity or rigor that only school can provide, but I learned a whole lot of other stuff in the meantime. Stuff like working an 8-5 job I hated. Working an 8-5 job I enjoyed. Traveling to Prague. Making new friends. Going to writing conferences. Joining writing groups. Traveling to Hong Kong. I could go on. My point is, there's a bit of wisdom and value in being outside of the sheltered academic world. I can say without hesitation that I was able to do a lot of things I couldn't do in school.
Simply put, I wasn't ready at 22 -- both in writing ability and maturity. Yet, what's right for me isn't right for everyone. I understand that. Some people are ready the moment they get out of undergrad. Some people need ten years. Others fifteen. There's no magic number. And I'm not even sure that four is the magic number for me. Maybe I should have applied last year. Maybe I need to mature and develop as a writer for a couple more years. I don't know. All I know is that it feels right, and at the end of the day, it's really all we can ever go by.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
In the beginning...
About a year ago, after getting my first story published, I began to think that maybe, just maybe, I could live the dream. Get into a top-notch creative writing program and get paid -- paid! -- to do nothing but write (and maybe teach) for two full years. So I went out and bought a copy of Tom Kealey's excellent MFA handbook and started to save money in the hopes of making my dream a reality.
Now it's almost October and applications are due in three months. Where do I stand? What have I done (or haven't done) that would convince a faculty to take me? What have I done (or haven't done) that would convince a faculty to throw my application into a garbage can and light that garbage can on fire?
The case for:
So there we have it. To be honest, my GPA blemish scares me to death more than anything else. In compiling my list of schools, I've had to cross off at least a half dozen schools on that basis alone. I've also since emailed a handful others asking if the GPA requirements would immediately disqualify me from contention. Needless to say, it's been a huge source of stress for me of late, and I can't emphasize enough how important it is to get good grades in school. Yeesh. I sound like my mom.
Obviously all of the above is moot in relation to my writing. But I can't account for my manuscript, which no one can tell you is any good until you actually do the deed and submit your work. And, of course, it's always too late when you find out that your work isn't good enough, but that's the nature of the beast, isn't it?
Now it's almost October and applications are due in three months. Where do I stand? What have I done (or haven't done) that would convince a faculty to take me? What have I done (or haven't done) that would convince a faculty to throw my application into a garbage can and light that garbage can on fire?
The case for:
- I have a degree. So far so good. That degree happens to be a BS in Genetics from Purdue University, 2004. While that may sound impressive, it's actually quite horrible -- see the "The case against:" section down below.
- I currently have a job that I'm quite good at in the very relevant area of editing, and I even have the word "Senior" in my title.
- I've had two short stories published.
- My Verbal GRE score isn't half bad (650).
- My GPA, weighing in at an awful 2.46. No, I'm not making that up. This, besides my manuscript of course, will be the thing that sinks me. To all you undergrads looking towards grad school: I can't stress how important it is to finish with a decent GPA. While having a sub-3.0 GPA won't immediately sink your chances for an MFA (an MFA in Creative Writing being one of the few degrees out there that don't always require a GPA minimum) it will be a barrier to you for a number of schools. Why? A GPA minimum is one that the Graduate School (not to be confused with the program) will often require. There are the occasions where the Creative Writing program has enough autonomy where they can take whomever they want, but as with a lot of places, you have to get accepted into the Graduate School first -- thus the GPA minimum.
- I lack a "relevant" degree. This is more important to some schools than others, but having a non-English degree ranges from very mildly important to not important at all. This is kind of a throwaway point.
- My referees are not former professors or teachers. Two of them are supervisors and one is a writing group chum. I don't know if this is a valid "case against," as I've been out of school for about four years, but it illustrates how important it is to kiss ass while in school and to keep in contact with past teachers.
So there we have it. To be honest, my GPA blemish scares me to death more than anything else. In compiling my list of schools, I've had to cross off at least a half dozen schools on that basis alone. I've also since emailed a handful others asking if the GPA requirements would immediately disqualify me from contention. Needless to say, it's been a huge source of stress for me of late, and I can't emphasize enough how important it is to get good grades in school. Yeesh. I sound like my mom.
Obviously all of the above is moot in relation to my writing. But I can't account for my manuscript, which no one can tell you is any good until you actually do the deed and submit your work. And, of course, it's always too late when you find out that your work isn't good enough, but that's the nature of the beast, isn't it?
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