A remarkable number of debut authors boast an MFA in writing. Or just as often hide the fact. Which makes sense. Artists want to be known as artists. Logging time in a classroom, or teaching in one yourself, doesn’t really jibe with the whole “stunning new voice” thing.
Since writing can’t be taught, and classwork takes away from time learning, one must ask what’s up. Here’s my two cent’s worth, which may be all it’s worth, but here goes:
The MFA allows the writer to get away, flirt with other writers, and in general goof off while they work on their writing.
The MFA puts one in touch with the industry, those agents and publishing types who stop by to goof off, answer questions, and yes, flirt with would-be writers.
The MFA entitles you to join a larger club of like-minded elites, where you goof off, network, flirt, and otherwise leverage your elite status.
The MFA confers the rather lofty-sounding Master of Fine Arts degree, allowing you to teach, typically at another MFA program, where you can make money, hobnob with publishing types, goof off, flirt…
Oh hell. You get the idea. It’s a big club and although there isn’t a secret handshake, there’s a whole lot of winking and insider nudge-nudging going on. (BTW I’m not so sure there isn’t a secret handshake.)
What keeps it all going? Money, of course. There’s more than 250 MFA programs in America, and thousands graduate each year. With annual tuition from ten to forty-grand per student, that’s a lot of salaries paid and money made. The MFA is spendy to be sure, but like all elite programs this is deliberate. It keeps the riffraff out.
And that’s the point anyway, isn’t it? We can’t all get published, and access starts with an MFA. Not that access can’t be, um, accessed in other ways. You can date an agent’s sister. Work as a go-fer at a media conglomerate. Find an industry-connected sugar daddy.
Better stick with the MFA. If you have the time and money, why not? I actually find nothing wrong with these programs, as long as you know what the MFA can and can’t do.
And if you still think you can learn to write, you’re in luck. I know more than any ten professors. Sign up today with my exclusive Instant MFA program. For only twelve EZ payments, you can… Nah. Not gonna do it. As a writer, I’ve made about every sacrifice a human being can make, but I still got my honor.
Tell you what. I’ll do it for free. But like any MFA program, you gotta be willing to hobnob, goof off, flirt, etc. etc.
Richard Donnelly lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Classic flyover land. Which makes us feel just a little… superior. He publishes a weekly column of essays on the writing life at richarddonnelly.substack.com
