The Fall 2012 issue of  Glimmer Train (Issue 84) opens with the following quote:

“You do get to a certain point in life where you have to realistically, I think, understand that the days are getting short and you can’t put things off, thinking you’ll get to them someday. If you really want to do them, you better do them…So I’m very much a believer in knowing what it is that you love doing, so that you can do a great deal of it.

You know when my close friend died, you know–we always played the game, What would your last meal be? Mine happens to be a Nate ‘n Al’s hot dog. But Judy was dying of throat cancer, and she said, I can’t even have my last meal.

And that’s what you have to know: If you’re serious about it, have it now. Have it tonight, have it all the time, so that when you’re on your death bed, you’re not thinking, Oh, I should have had more of Nate ‘n Al’s hot dogs.”  —Nora Ephron (May 19, 1941-June 26, 2012) interviewed on NPR November 9, 2010.

Reading this was, for me, one of those wonderful instances of discovering someone had put words to a nameless thing I’m trying to express in my life. The “thing” is nameless because I’m acting on raw emotion and instinct. If you asked me to explain in detail you may or may not know what I’m talking about. But the late Ms. Ephron has given me, through her wisdom, an opening here. Two of her points struck my heart with a painful clarity:

  1. knowing what it is that you love doing
  2. do a great deal of it

I’ve known my responses to these two points for a long time: I know I love writing–my writing. I know I want to do a great deal of my writing. My problem has always been the question, How do I make it happen? The funny thing is, I’ve also had the answer–my answer– for a while: enroll in a masters program and get an MFA in creative writing.

However I didn’t do it for years because whenever I spoke about the idea someone would usually say, “You don’t need to do that, you’ve already published a novel.” Or they would talk about the endeavor being a waste of money. I would listen to these thoughts, put aside the concept of getting an MFA, and keep floundering along on my own. But, finally, early last year I began gaining confidence in my thought process which was this: There are certain things I want to accomplish as a writer; there’s a way I want to “show up” in the world as a writer. I also wanted a supportive community of writers/friends/teachers and I wanted them to inspire, encourage, and challenge me to write what I’ve never written before.

When the Vermont College of Fine Arts invited me to an open house in the spring of 2011 I went and after just one day on the Montpelier campus I came away with a handful of story ideas and a poem. I hadn’t written a poem since college! The experience confirmed everything I had suspected: my heart hungered for this learning. I needed it for me; it was what I wanted for my writing. It didn’t matter how little it made sense to anyone else.

The loss of a close family member added urgency to my quest, increasing my awareness of, as Ms. Ephron put it, the days getting short. Suddenly I had no patience for all the reasons I didn’t need an MFA. I decided to focus on my reasons why I did.

Recently I heard from a writer considering attending VCFA, and the person commented, “I’m not sure I can see spending 40k.” That’s okay. We each make our choices depending on what we can “see.” I see the writer I want to be. I don’t particularly care about the money–I’ve had student loans before and I don’t mind having them again. I can’t put a price tag on what VCFA means to me. It has been less than a year and already I’ve grown more and produced more as a writer than I have in my previous five years. I love the people around me, teachers and students, and my life is different because of them. A friend, after seeing a photo of me writing at my VCFA summer residency, commented, “I love it! You are in your joy!” Yes. She is absolutely correct. To quote the MasterCard commercial, all this to me is priceless.

Only you can know if you would value such an experience, or if this is even what you want or need as a writer. It is worth asking, though, so you can get what you need and begin having a “great deal” of what you love in your life all the time.

So…What do you want as a writer and how much is it worth to you?

 

Sophfronia