Thoughts From an MFA Residency (Day 2)

You sit in the workshop, the reading, the lecture, the energy of all these writers heating up the space. There is, shall we say, a frisson in the room. You feel the buzz zing into you, that hopeful sure feeling that yes yes yes you are a writer too and you are bursting with words and ideas. You tell yourself to remember this optimism when the inevitable crash comes later in the week.

The crash comes sooner that you expected. A few hours later you listen to the readings and think of the theory and poke around in your own tired mind, sure that you will never write anything as good as anyone else, sure that nothing you've written is worthy, sure that there is more to learn than you could gulp down in a lifetime. You remember telling yourself to remember the other feeling, that other voice. You dismiss such joy as naive and innocent, simultaneously wondering if maybe that's too harsh of a critique, if maybe that other voice (the shiny happy one) was the wise one. Maybe this stingy doomsayer is the naive one.

You recognize that exhaustion and caffeine have a lot to do with what voice shouts or whispers in your head. There's still tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. And more tomorrows after you leave here. In that is all the hope and despair you'll ever need.

Comments

[Sandra]

Jen, I've had both those voices, too... I wonder how they even come from the same head. I truly believe the shiny, happy one is the right and wise one. really. when you're with her next, she will let you know.

[Kim A]

Both voices are useful, and true in a way, because no matter how good a writer is (and you are a wonderful writer), the realization that she is just one of many keeps her humble, which seems to be a necessity for good writing, just as the knowledge that her words and ideas are valuable keeps her going. Maybe it's a balance between the two voices that we need.

[Charlotte Rains Dixon]

Oh man--how well I remember the crazy mood swings from my own MFA residency days. We joked about it all the time, how one minute we'd be on the top of the world about our writing and the next all hope was lost. I think the trick is to just ignore all of them and focus on the wonderful lectures, workshops, and people you are sharing them with.