Funding 101

Check it out: Seth Abramson's Funding Rankings on The Suburban Ecstasies. Fantastic stuff. I kind of wish I had this kind of resource when I was applying to schools last fall. Not that the knowledge would have changed my list (it wouldn't have), but rather, it would have provided a large measure of comfort for me in my decision making. To have a comprehensive list of schools, from one to fifty, documenting funding, length, and teaching load is nothing short of fantastic. It's a great read, regardless of whether you're currently (or will be) attending school or gearing up to apply for 2010.

As for the list itself, I am relatively unsurprised. To trumpet the University of Illinois' funding briefly, it comes as no shock to me that it ranks so highly at number three, as the University of Illinois manages to provide full funding for all its students through its incredibly tiny cohorts (three poets, three fiction writers a year) with many TA and internship opportunities. Every student teaches one section in their first year, and then two sections (or a combination of TAing and internships) in their remaining two years. TAing (based on previous years) gives an approximately $9,000 stipend. That totals ~$9K for the first year, and ~$18K for the remaining two. Combine that with the ridiculously low cost of living in Champaign-Urbana (single apartments go for $400-500, depending on how nice you want to go), and you have one of the best financial packages in the country. Surprised? I was too in my research of the program and subsequent acceptance. You'd figure that the University of Illinois would be a more widely regarded program based on the strength of its funding package alone. What most don't realize is that the University of Illinois is, relatively speaking, a very young program, established in just 2002.

Also unsurprising to me is the kind of footprint that Midwestern and Southern schools have on the list. Out of the top fifteen schools, seven are located in the Midwest -- University of Illinois, Indiana University, Ohio State University, Purdue University, Washington University at St. Louis, University of Michigan, and Southern Illinois University. In the top twenty, nine schools. The South, has six schools in the top fifteen, and nine in the top twenty. As I've intimated in previous posts, this kind of funding pattern is unsurprising. The major metropolitan areas in the United States -- the West Coast and East Coast, Chicago, etc. -- are replete with writers and writing communities by virtue of their large, concentrated populations. This is why so many schools located in these areas can sustain programs, some of them very prestigious, with little to no funding (Columbia, The New School, NYU, Northwestern). Simply, they don't need to offer their students funding; they have more than enough people living close by who are willing to pay full price. In contrast, the Midwest and the South, outside of the few major metropolitan areas, must provide aggressive funding packages to attract people out of necessity. To a writer living in Chicago or New York or Los Angeles, where many advantages of lifestyle and community are afforded to them, the prospect of moving to a town with a population of fifty thousand is made that much more appealing with the prospect of a fully funded program.

At any rate, Seth's list is an excellent jumping off point for anyone compiling a list of schools, especially if funding is one of your top priorities. It is important to note, however, that some schools, like the University of Minnesota, Syracuse, and Johns Hopkins, are all listed in the mid-thirties because of a lack of information in regards to their exact funding. I know all three programs fully fund their students, and probably quite well, however the lack of information unfortunately damages them in their standing -- how can you rank a school without any hard numbers? So I guess the lesson is, do your research. Regardless of Seth's wonderful funding list, I'd still apply to Syracuse and Johns Hopkins if I had to do it all over again.

Title Change

You might notice the small change to the title of my blog up top: from "Applying to the MFA in Creative Writing" to simply "The MFA in Creative Writing."

While I'll definitely be monitoring the MFA application season closely come next fall, as I transition these next few months from applicant to student, I think the revised blog title will give a more accurate picture as to where I stand in the process.

And one last bit of obvious advice as we exit application season: always doublecheck the emails you send out to schools. In my emailed response to Columbia College's acceptance letter, I accidentally referenced Western Michigan instead of Columbia College. A horrible, horrible mistake. Thankfully, the person who responded to me was more than gracious amidst my embarrassment, and didn't grind it in my face. You'd think an editor like me would have the chops to read and reread the emails he sends out to schools.

The Last One

A letter was waiting in the mail for me today: an acceptance from Columbia College. Nothing much to say, as I've obviously already made my decision, but it's nice to get a final word on the final school. I immediately emailed them my "thanks, but no thanks."

Summer Reading

I've been neglecting the blog for the past week or so, trying to get my moving situation to Champaign straightened out. The good news: I have an apartment, so I won't be homeless come fall.

At any rate, I received an email from one of my professors a couple weeks ago letting me know what we'd be reading in our craft class for the fall. And I don't know about the rest of you, but this is the kind of stuff that geeks me out. Books. Craft stuff. The kinds of books that can and will be taken apart, page by page, word by word. It's interesting, because I didn't always use to be this way. In high school, I absolutely hated those English classes, the ones where you read The Scarlett Letter or Jane Austen and then dissect it to death in a sort of faux-democratic style of consensus on what we thought about the book... except they weren't really our thoughts or opinions; they were the thoughts and opinions of the teachers, as dictated by their syllabus. And realistically, who in the world would expect 15-year-olds to express critical thinking about books that are completely outside of their realm of knowledge and world experience? Much less books that all took place before the 1900s? Why should they care? I often look back on those high school years with disgust. Is it any wonder why the population of active readers and book buyers decrease year after year? It's as if we wanted to ruin an entire generation to the idea of reading for pleasure during their most formative years.

Okay. That was a huge tangent and rant. Back to summer reading. The list of books as provided by my professor is about 6-8 titles long, including two craft books. Now, no one would ever accuse me of being well prepared, but being the nerd that I am, I went out and ordered three of the books from Amazon to get a head start. They are Alone With All That Could Happen: Rethinking Conventional Wisdom About the Craft of Fiction by David Jauss, Then We Came to the End by Joshua Ferris, and Shining at the Bottom of the Sea by Stephen Marche. Interestingly, I had the David Jauss book already marked for purchase six months ago -- I'm a huge sucker for craft books. And I've heard about the Joshua Ferris book, written completely in first person plural, which should be a great study, but I'm most intrigued by the Stephen Marche book -- a completely fabricated anthology about the island of Sanjania. In it, he creates a country and its culture from the ground up, which, to me, is nothing short of fascinating. As a writer, such a concept sounds so incredibly large and imposing. I have a hard enough time fabricating the lives and histories of invididuals and their families, and I simply cannot fathom doing the same for a population, a country, an entire culture. Heady stuff. I can't wait to get started reading.

Retrospective: The Statement of Purpose

In light of Graduate School Deadline Day™, I thought I'd share a copy of the Statement of Purpose I submitted to all the MFA programs I applied to:

My primary goals for pursuing an MFA degree are to significantly improve my writing and to become an integral part of a vibrant, close-knit writing community. To me, both of these goals are intertwined. It is difficult to improve as a writer without the feedback of peers, and similarly, one cannot be a successful member of a writing community without the rigorous application to craft. As such, I have been fortunate to be a part of the same close writing group for the past two years. Through my group’s honest and careful feedback, my writing has vastly improved, and as a result, I have had two of my short stories published: in the Concho River Review, Fall 2007 Issue, and in the Potomac Review, Fall 2008 Issue. I know that without their support, I would not be anywhere near the writer I am today.

By the same token, I understand I still have a great deal to learn. There are many aspects of craft that continue to elude me. For example, I would like to know how to effectively utilize an unreliable narrator, or how to transition from a third-person limited point of view to an omniscient point of view within a single scene. These techniques can only be improved through instruction, careful study, and access to knowledgeable professors. In essence, the intense academic environment provided by the University of Illinois’ MFA program is something that cannot be replicated. I would relish the opportunity to work with and be critiqued by fellow students and professors in such a setting.

In addition to writing, I have various professional and personal strengths to offer to the University of Illinois’ MFA program. Currently, I work as an editor in the newswire industry. In my three years in this position, I have not only been promoted from Associate to Senior Editor, but have also gained extensive experience in the areas of copy editing, professional writing, and documentation writing. Additionally, spending time in a professional environment has taught me the discipline necessary to complete large and small projects on a daily basis. I am more than confident that my real world experience has equipped me with the skills and habits needed to be a successful member of an MFA program.

I am interested in the University of Illinois’ MFA program because of its blend of writing workshops, literature classes, and elective courses on publishing, professional writing, and teaching. The emphasis on a practical range of topics related to creative writing is something that I value highly in a program. I also appreciate the three-year program the University of Illinois provides for its students. While I would savor any chance to study writing at an elite MFA program, a third year would provide more time to research and complete a full manuscript. Additionally, I believe I have much to offer to the University of Illinois. My years of professional experience in copy editing, combined with my personal experience as a contributing member of a close-knit writing community, provides me with a great understanding of what it takes to be a part of a successful program.

Obviously, this SOP varied from school to school. I didn't alter it too much, but I did apply some liberal editing to the last paragraph based on the school, and details specific to each school. I personally think my SOP is a bit wooden, and definitely on the professional side. But then, much of my formal writing experience is steeped in professional and business writing, and I'd be lying if I said that this style wasn't comfortable for me for the Statement of Purpose. Should everyone utilize this voice? Of course not. Being natural in voice and style is important; like writing stories, people can tell when you're faking it.

I should probably include another paragraph of text. Below is a snippet that I placed in some of my SOPs (usually appearing after the second paragraph of the above Statement of Purpose) to the schools that would allow over 500 words:

In regards to my writing, I am interested in exploring the issues of community and culture as it relates to the children of immigrants -- first generation immigrants -- in the United States. I was born and raised in the mostly Caucasian, middle class suburbs of Chicago, yet grew up in a primarily Chinese household. Like my parents, I was not only a minority in name and appearance, but also in culture and community. Most of our family friends were Chinese, I attended Chinese school every Sunday for five years, and we spent entire summers visiting family in Hong Kong. Yet, unlike my parents, being an American was also a far larger part of my identity than it was to them. First generation immigrants are embedded in both cultures, and often, embracing one comes at the expense of the other. To a child or a teenager, this dichotomy is made more complex with issues of identity as it pertains to adolescence and becoming an adult. I want my writing to occupy this space of tension, where to a child, their culture, community, and identity are multi-faceted, complex issues.

A dash of personal background and writing interest. Did it help? To be honest, probably not. It certainly didn't hurt, though. Of all the schools that either waitlisted or accepted me, two (Western Michigan University and Roosevelt) received the "personal" version, and two (the University of Illinois and Notre Dame) received the "vanilla" version. Purdue's case was special, as they asked for an additional written statement answering the questions: "Whose work do you admire? What collection of poetry and/or works of fiction read in the last year have been important to you, and why?" It was fairly simple for me to fold in that one paragraph with some immigrant fiction I had been reading and which were important to me.

In general, I think this is an interesting point, because I had readers who, in general, liked the additional paragraph in my SOP. It gave it a "personal" touch. I, however, was rather ambivalent about the extra paragraph. It felt a little out of place in terms of tone and content. And if a school has even gotten to your SOP, it stands to reason that they've already read and loved your manuscript, and are simply making sure you are a fairly driven, yet normal individual. You hear it over and over again: the manuscript comes first. Which is the reason why, given everything -- the dozens of drafts and the dozens of hours I spent on my SOP -- the Statement of Purpose seems to me both less important and as important as you think. It's fairly important that you try to convey an honest and interesting portrayal of yourself in the SOP. For me, this was utilizing a businesslike approach. Yet, at the same time, there's probably a fairly easy watermark to pass, kind of like a "you must be this sane to ride" type of deal.

But I don't want to dismiss the inherent value in the personal details expressed in the Statement of Purpose. When I first met the Director of the University of Illinois' program, the first few questions she asked me were related to the information and details in my SOP. I was struck by that. In a way, it was her first impression of me as a person, which is something you can never take too lightly.

Retrospective: The Importance of Choosing Wisely

The list of schools you choose to apply to is important. Even before you start applying in the months of November, December, and January, the very act of choosing is important. Why? The list is a malleable thing, right? If you don't like this school, just remove it, and if you like that school, just add it? Which is true. In fact, I was constantly tinkering with my school list weeks, days before I was set to start applying. I added a couple schools at the last second on a whim. I removed one on another whim. There's no doubt that choosing where to apply to is more art than science; these are the realities of applying to grad school. And if I had unlimited resources with unlimited man-hours, I would have applied to every last school in the country. But that's the problem -- who has over a thousand bucks to spare? Who has forty, fifty hours of free time to spend on applying to grad schools during the holidays? Resources are finite, and when applying, even if it is as many schools as twelve, thirteen, fourteen, you truly have to make every one count.

Let's get the obvious stuff out of the way. As wise man Tom Kealey says, there are many factors that one should keep in mind when compiling a list, each of which have varying degrees of importance, depending on the individual. But they are (in no particular order): funding, location, faculty, prestige, length of program, size of cohort. Give or take a few factors, depending on your personal preference. For me, funding and location trumped the list, which I imagine it probably did (and will) for many individuals. But let's forget about the what was most important to me. I think at the end of it all, there's an exceedingly important question everyone has to ask themselves before sinking the time, money, and energy into applications, a question that I did not always ask myself in compiling my schools list: When faced with a hypothetical acceptance from a particular school with no other acceptances, would you be able to, hands down, take that offer? This question obviously scales with what's important to you on the list. If funding is vital, then you'd have to ask yourself the same question, except include the "worst case scenario" funding situation -- ie, accepted to Columbia, but with no funding. Would you still take the offer with no other prospects on the horizon?

I know this seems like an exceedingly obvious question to ask, building a "worst case scenario" situation, but I can't tell you how difficult it was to be this honest with myself in creating the list. There was a tremendous pull to just throw any school that met my minimum standards on the list, and let them sort it out in the end. The problem was that this strategy was unreasonable when it came to application time. Was it really realistic to spend around $80 on application fees, printing materials, postage, and countless man-hours on a school in another state, another timezone that ultimately provided little to no funding? For me, such a scenario was unrealistic. While it's true that the first application is really the hardest, each following application did not become linearly easier to compile with time. If anything, the complexity of assembling all the materials stayed the same -- I simply became more adept with putting it together. And yet, I cannot tell you how many hours I spent checking and rechecking each item to make sure I had every "i" dotted, and still made significant mistakes; one on my manuscript, another on my applications. Mistakes can and will happen.

I guess what I'm saying is that my list could've been better constructed, with what I now know and what I have experienced. I don't regret the outcome, not for a second. Yet I wonder what my application season would've looked like had I omitted Syracuse (for location reasons) and Western Michigan (for funding reasons) from the list. If every other school had rejected me, save for WMU, I doubt that I would've been able to attend without a sniff of funding. If Syracuse had accepted me, I wonder how easy it would have been for me to say yes, based on personal situations. Would I have been better served to add the University of Minnesota and Southern Illinois in place of those schools? Who knows. Choosing between 2-4 acceptances is tough enough. Having to choose between waiting for next year's application season and an unfunded offer (or worse, a fully funded offer that you can't attend for personal/locational reasons) is tougher.

The Semi-Final List

Everyone loves lists. Here's mine (the semi-final version, with one school's response still yet unheard):

University of Illinois - officially accepted
Western Michigan University - accepted (turned down)
Roosevelt University (Chicago) - accepted (turned down)
Purdue University - waitlisted * (turned down)
University of Notre Dame - waitlisted (turned down)
University of Michigan - rejected
Washington University - rejected
University of Iowa - rejected
Indiana University - rejected
Syracuse University - rejected
Ohio State University - rejected
Johns Hopkins - rejected
Columbia College (Chicago) - no answer

* Purdue's selection process relies on a system where the top 15-20 candidates for poetry and fiction each are selected. Out of these candidates, the final slots are eventually filled with permission from the Director of Composition, who has final say. This selection process works as a kind of quasi-waitlist. Details of Purdue's process can be found here.


Some observations. A wise man would tell you that the MFA selection process is at times an incredibly luck-based and arbitrary process. There are countless stories of people getting into Iowa and being rejected from a small state school in the same year. Yet when examining my list, where I got in and waitlisted, and where I did not, there seems, at least to me, an obvious pattern. Simply, that I couldn't crack the very elite schools, the schools that populate the top 20, top 15 lists -- Syracuse, Iowa, Indiana, John Hopkins, Michigan. It seems like a simple enough explanation: I simply wasn't good enough this year. But although I love the simple explanations, I also think it's a little more complicated than that.

There's the obvious question of sample size. Thirteen schools and one year's worth of data is far too little for any meaningful result. And what about school aesthetics? I've also found in my communication with other potential MFAers this year that there seems to be an extremely high correlation between folks who got accepted into Illinois, who also got an offer from Purdue (or waitlisted) and Notre Dame, and vice versa. Coincidence? I don't know. You expect some measure of overlap between the students that schools will fight over -- talent is talent -- but I counted, including myself, about a half dozen people who got a positive response from more than one of the schools I mentioned above. That is an extremely high number for schools that will only have incoming cohorts of 3-5 students apiece. In my opinion, there's definitely a case of school specific aesthetics in play here. And uncoincidentally, it's also a regional pattern -- the schools in the same locations will get a huge overlap of students applying to all or most of the schools in the same general area.

Speculation, of course. All I have to go off of are the schools I've researched and read. I do wonder if these patterns appear in other regions as well. What about the schools in Florida? New York? North Carolina? If I were a betting man, I'd wager that there'd be an overlapping pattern of schools with similar aesthetics, along with a regional pattern of schools pulling from similar application bases and certain locations.

Winding Down

This next week and a half will be a mad dash for those who are anxiously sitting on their waitlist spots, as people eventually make their decisions before April 15. Good luck! I'll be out of town during the upcoming week, and won't be making any posts in the meantime. However, when I get back, I do intend to do a full retrospective: what did I do wrong, what did I do right, and most importantly, what did I learn? I'm sure I'll have a lot to share; I also intend to post my statement of purpose, verbatim, as well as some other things. So we're not quite done yet (at least, not if you're an MFA nerd, like me).

Decision Time

I've finally figured out how to add photos to my posts, and just in time too. As one can probably guess by the image, I've made a decision. Illinois will be my school, and Champaign-Urbana will be where I live for the next three years, and I couldn't be happier. In doing so, I've turned down my waitlist spot at Notre Dame, my spots at Roosevelt and Western Michigan, and my quasi-waitlist spot at Purdue. I hope they are of use to other individuals out there.

My visit to the campus on Monday was nothing short of fantastic. While I had always known that the faculty were helpful and enthusiastic in my communication with them, I was pleasantly surprised to find out how close-knit the student body was as well. They made my decision an easy one, and I look forward to working with them in the fall.

Now here is that part where I shamelessly plug my program: Why am I so excited about the University of Illinois?

• It is a three-year, fully funded program. What does fully funded mean? You get approximately 11-12 thousand for the first year, and about 18 thousand for the remaining two years. That's incredible for a town as cheap as Champaign-Urbana.
  
• You get to teach, a lot. In your first year, you teach one class, the second and third years, two classes. This may not appeal to everyone, but the prospect of teaching at the college level fills me with both excitement and dread. But mostly excitement.
  
• If you don't want to teach so much, you can do other things. The great thing about the program is that you can forgo one of those teaching classes in your second and/or third years for other internship opportunities. There are individuals in the program who work with the program's lit magazine, Ninth Letter, who TA for biology classes, etc. There's a ton of flexibility with what you can do, which speaks to the value placed on the MFA students.
• I mentioned this above, but there's a tremendous opportunity to work with the literary magazine, Ninth Letter. Not only is it a great resource to learn about the publishing industry, but you also to get to read slush! Okay, so most people wouldn't be excited by that, but I am. I'm also a glutton for punishment.
• It's all about the people. I've always been a "big program" kind of guy, have always equated my prospects of meeting other great, decent people and writers as a pure numbers game -- the more people in your program, the greater chance you have to meet others of the same mind. But it's surprising how sometimes what you've always thought you wanted will often be vastly different from what you actually need. From what I can tell, the small community at the University of Illinois is close and supportive -- really, all I can ask for. Plus, I was fortunate to meet some of my prospective class while there, and they all appear to be great people. I can't wait to bring in U of I's class of 2009 with them.
  

I could go on, but I think I'll shut my trap for now. I know decisions are still being made, rejections and acceptances are still being issued, and funding situations still have to be hashed out. Good luck to everyone out there still waiting, hoping, and deciding. April 15th can't come soon enough.