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!
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