#MFA or No MFA? #Literature Discussion

Not to drop a bomb, or anything, but read this article: "Things I Can Say About MFA Writing Programs Now That I No Longer Teach in One" by Ryan Boudinot. Now, micers: please discuss.

And You Thought You Had MFA Troubles

This article entitled "How Iowa Flattened Literature" published today in the Chronicle of Higher Education is a hot mess and yet kind of fascinating. I'm not even sure I understand where it *is* going, even though author Eric Bennett writes in the middle of it, in his super confiding tone, "I'm sure you can see where this is going."  Also, confusing: the the article seems to be a mash-up of a personal essay about being a student at the Iowa Workshop published in an anthology entitled MFA vs NYC: The Two Cultures of Fiction in America and the author's new historical book entitled, Empire of Workshop, about the CIA and communism at the heart of the prestigious MFA program's inception. The latter is published by guess who? University of Iowa Press. So, it is a criticism? Anyway, though I have my own set of torturous topics, I am glad the cold war and questions of greatness are not among them. Check it out.

Rearing its Head

Ye Old MFA Debate is happening on this blog in the comments section of a recent post.  It goes like this:

Anonymous 1: "It's gotten to the point where an MFA is a license enabling one to practice. Just like dentistry or law require a license. Can only "trained" writers produce good work? In today's literary world a discriminatory mindset prevails. -- and this is wrong. But those in academia are in the driver's seat -- and they won't change a status quo that favors them. I know -- this is an old gripe, But that doesn't make it any less valid."

Anonymous 2: "No, what makes your gripe less valid is how silly it is. . . ."

Anonymous 1: "Silly? That's it? Perfect example of the attitude I'm talking about. One that reeks of a superior dismissiveness. (BTW, what MFA program did you attend?)"

Anonymous 2: "You don't offer any evidence for your argument--that's what makes it silly. Sorry if that's elitist. Now to begin: have you considered how many people with MFAs are also getting rejected? The MFA is a chance to work with established writers and to network and to teach--in no way is it a license that 'enables one to practice.' I know plenty of MFAers who send out story after story with nothing to show. Also: can only 'trained' writers produce good work? Uh, have you been reading lately? 'Good' work is among the rarest published. 'Good' work has a hard time finding a market. Publishers aren't interested in 'good.' They want something that 'sells.' Academia in the driver's seat? Tell that to the University of Missouri Press, one of the last best places for literary fiction. Their funding has been yanked. Also: Have you considered that in order to get a job in academia, today's writers must first have published with major publishers? Lastly: you're going to dismiss Jacob Appel and his work because of his degree? That is ridiculous. Go back through this blog and read the posts where Jacob is mentioned. He has had to work and work and work. It's insulting that you would try to diminish him in any way by suggesting that he hasn't earned his success. Now, you may not like my attitude but, upon examination, yours is quite a bit worse. A real writer wouldn't begrudge anyone else his/her success, because a real writer understands how difficult it is to write. In an MFA program or not."

Anonymous 1: "You still miss my point. Sure, a lot of writers with an MFA don't get published. But at least they have a shot at getting read. Why else would almost every writer in a magazine or journal of any prestige have an MFA? The point is this: if you do NOT have an MFA, you aren't even in the running (unless you're writng in a popular genre; but I'm talking literary fiction -- by which I mean "good" fiction). Some people in the "establishment" admit this; some even lament it. I had a email discussion about the state of things with an editor in a top tier publication (east coast city) and he wrote me -- exact words: "You're right -- it's all MFA all the time. Don't know quite what to do about it." Why did he respond? Because 1) he was an editor of non-fiction and 2) he was a man in his late sixties. Anybody who writes well has my respect. But a lot of what I see published in the last ten years I don't consider to be good. Much less very good -- or great. A lot of the writers who did great work never got an MFA. Back in the day, it was."

Viewer Call-In Question Time

Someone commenting on the blog wants to know:

Are you guys submitting your stories with cover letters? I never do unless it is explicitly asked for, but I wonder how many more acceptances (or nice rejections) I might get if I mentioned 3 little letters. Le sigh.

Answers, anybody?

Program Slashing

Is this a new economic trend or a much needed correction to the market?

Overrated and Contemporary

Slamming MFA programs and some of today's most lauded writers?  Read it here in this ballsy Huffington Post Article by Anis Shivani. BTW, Mary Oliver, Jhumpa Lahiri, Sharon Olds overrated? Really? Here's a high/low-light from the article: "The MFA writing system, with its mechanisms of circulating popularity and fashionableness, leans heavily on the easily imitable. Cloying writers like Denis Johnson, Amy Hempel, Lydia Davis, Aimee Bender, and Charles D'Ambrosio are held up as models of good writing, because they're easy enough to copy. And copied they are, in tens of thousands of stories manufactured in workshops. Others hide behind a smokescreen of unreadable inimitability--Marilynne Robinson, for example--to maintain a necessary barrier between the masses and the overlords. Since grants, awards, and residencies are controlled by the same inbreeding group, it's difficult to see how the designated heavies can be displaced."  (I couldn't imitate any of those writers if I tried.)

Where Mary Tyler Moore Got Her MFA

No MFA from U Minn for you? Well, it's debatable about whether it would have helped or hindered.  You know that old debate, right?

Talk Softly and Carry A Big Degree (Or Don't)

An interesting note came in via the cybermailbox recently:

Hey W,R:  I just was reading an interview with the editor of a new online/print pub called Sotto Voce. Apparently the editorial selection process is totally blind; all identifying information about the writer -- name, previous pubs, education -- is stripped from the ms during the review process, and only after a piece has been selected for publication do the editors find out who wrote it.

A quote that left me feeling kind of smug, considering the incessant speculation on your blog and elsewhere that an MFA credential magically opens publishing doors:

"Ironically, I received an e-mail from a disgruntled contributor (he was rejected for the first issue) who said that "[Sotto Voce] only recognize[s] three letters of the alphabet. MFA." I set him straight, but I had to laugh at his misconception. Any skewing of our contributor pool in favor of those who have formal education in writing or art demonstrates one thing: that formal education will make you a better writer, poet, or artist. Of course, there are the few-and-far-between natural geniuses but, in general, those who devote their time and energy towards learning their craft will be better at it."

Here's the interview:
And here's the new zine:

A caveat: I haven't read any of the fiction in Sotto Voce, and I see that the blog interviewer is a contributor in the first issue; relations between editor and contributor might be cozier than the editor admits. But since there is no such thing as the imaginary cookie-cutter "MFA style" some of your posters are paranoid enough to perceive (it is impossible), I believe the editor when she says she goes for accomplished art.

Anyway, I thought you might be interested. You know I love Literary Rejections On Display and have great respect for you and the grace with which you conduct yourself, particularly with the meanies who show up periodically.

This note does bring up an interesting question, though. Are editors with MFA's more likely to publish the kind of writing they learned and learned to value in graduate school? Perhaps some lit eds will come around and set us straight on the question. 

You Bore Me, You Spoiled Brat!

Here's an interesting comment from an angry LROD reader from a recent post:

"there are other ways to make contacts besides getting an mfa...

how about making friends at a chichi artists' colony? editors who've published you? writers you've been published along side?

it must take work to have *no* friends in the lit biz, after 20 or so years. complain much wr?

your writing should usher you into the literary world on it's own merit. after all the $$$ you won, you sound like an overgrown spoiled brat. i'm sure if your defenders knew all the breaks you've had they'd think twice about championing your blog. your literary lottery winnings trump those of most people with mfa's. if you don't like where your career is at, you have only yourself to blame."

Actually, I didn't say that I had no friends after 20 years. That was a misinterpretation. (How do you think I got as far as I did in the first place?) But this dude probably has an MFA and probably doesn't like that some people are hating on the degree.

Here's another less personal one:

"LROD is the Mobius strip of blogs. Just when you start to think you're heading in a new and interesting direction, you end up where you started. I'll check back in two or three months when the whole MFA debate returns -- YET AGAIN. But only after a few entries (yawn) on VQR, Narrative, and Darrin Strauss."

My response to this comment is that I...I....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

I Guess E Told Us!

The old MFA-argument has reared its ugly head in the comments section of yesterday's post. One LROD regular, who calls herself E., has this to say about that:

"Jesus God, the MFA crap again. I am so fucking sick of this argument -- frighteningly similar to the anti-intellectualism of the outgoing neocon fearmongers -- that to actually study a subject is to somehow limit one's ability in that subject, to stifle one's worldview, and to fail to be a real, authentic, genuine "artist" (or American, if you like).

For the umpteenth time, people: MFA programs do not program writers to write in a certain way--to value or emulate particular elements or style or forms--any more than individuals not in MFA programs train themselves by reading what they admire and growing as a result of the exposure. I challenge anyone to try to sculpt another writer's voice by way of instruction, discussion, and critique; it is impossible. Sure, it's possible to imitate, but imitation is not sustainable.

Furthermore, who says the finalists in this contest are recent MFA grads? Could it be they graduated ten, twenty years ago? It could. Who says they earned their degrees when they were in their tender twenties? It may be that, like me and many of my fellow MFA classmates, they are in their thirties, forties, fifties, sixties. But even if they're not... Extrapolator Anon, you know *nothing* about these people, least of all the extent of their personal life experiences. Paint with a broad brush much?

As for being in debt: I'm not, because I have a full ride. Elitist luck? No; I worked to be admitted, and I'm working my ass off in the program as a writer and a TA. Most MFA programs offer at least partial funding; most students manage to sidestep this mythic mountain of debt I keep reading about. The fact that I'm lucky to be doing this doesn't make me a hack writer. I've carved out time at great personal sacrifice to devote myself to writing. After my three years are up, it's back to writing between the margins of a fulltime job, just like I did before.

There are a lot of reasons to whine about the state of publishing. People who dedicate themselves to studying the art are not one of those reasons.

If you're going to make an argument, make it original and cogent, will you please?"

She makes a good argument. I'm almost convinced. What do you think?

Not Even in The Top 15

Michigan Literary Fiction Awards results are in. Guess what?  The old version of my novel didn't win.

MFA From the Teacher's Perspective

Just when you think the MFA question is dead and buried, someone comes at it from a new angle.  This time, it's David Gessner in the New York Times about teaching creative writing as a writer. A highlight:

"For most of us, the options aren’t teaching or writing all day in a barn but teaching or working at the Dairy Queen. It’s not just a question of success or even genius, but temperament and discipline. Young writers think all they need is time, but give them that time and watch them implode. After all, there’s something basically insane about sitting at a desk and talking to yourself all day, and there’s a reason that writers are second only to medical students in instances of hypochondria. In isolation, our minds turn on us pretty quickly. I have two writer friends, successful novelists who could afford not to teach, who insist that rather than detract from their writing, their lives as professors are what allow them to write, and that given more free time, they would crumble. The job provides a safety net above the abyss of facing the difficulty of creating every day, making an irrational thing feel more rational.

Yet no matter how much support you have, how many schedules you make or how many books you’ve written before, there remains the basic irrationality of the task: you are sitting by yourself trying to make something out of nothing, and you rarely know where you’re going next. Creating your own world is an invitation to solipsism, if not narcissism, and as well as being alone when we work, we are left, for the most part, to judge by ourselves if we have succeeded or failed in our tasks. (Three guesses in which direction we most often lean.) My father succinctly summarized his feelings about my choice to dedicate my 20s to writing fiction. “You’re not living in the real world,” he said. I reacted with a young man’s defensiveness, but in retrospect his assessment seems less critical than a matter of fact.

Which is where teaching comes in. It provides all the practical things that can help prop us up above the morass of our insane callings, not to mention something we can wave at the world like a badge. And don’t forget this bonus: other people. How delightful to work on this thing called a hallway, populated not just by colleagues but by students, all committed to, or at the very least interested in, writing. And this is all without even mentioning the teaching itself. I love teaching. There is a deep pleasure in sharing the things that you have labored to learn in solitude. It’s inspiring work — rewarding, interactive, human work so different from what we do at our desks — and it turns out that writers, many of us natural entertainers, often do it quite well."

Having taught at an institution or two, I'd hardly call academia the real world, but the point is taken.  Writing is lonely.  I guess, teaching writing is a way to stave off the loneliness.  Gessner doesn't cover how these sort of programs help or hinder the general quality of writing.   That would have been interesting.

Close Down This Blog!

There's been a scuffle recently over the negative comments of a few bloggers, who tend to insult and pontificate.  There's been a call to remove the negative commenters from the blog, which is not my style.  After a few folks expressed these opinions, said negative bloggers have decided on their own that LROD is "disappointing, repetitive, and predictable," and they are leaving.

Because they are leaving (narcissistic ?), they think that I should shut down my blog. Funny. But, as with my persistent fiction, I'm not much of a quitter.  I'll probably be here as long as I get rejections, which as any writer knows, means forever. 

Here are the comments with my responses following:

Boris said: I do think this blog sort of beats the same dead horse, over and over, though: A post about this or that "injustice" in the publishing world, followed by a few thoughtful comments, followed by an anti-MFA "it's all about connections" rant by anonymous, followed by some back and forth between anonymous berating people for what they read (or don't read), followed by indignant replies to anonymous and then anonymous cutting and pasting what's been said so that he/she (I'm guessing 'he') can tell him or her how he or she didn't read his comments closely enough, followed by 'writer, rejected' telling everyone to go easy on the insults, and then maybe a published writer gets insulted (maybe even by writer, rejected), and then the published writer (or an editor) shows up to say, 'Hey, sorry you guys hate me based on my photo, my advance, my MFA,' and then this gives anonymous an opportunity to puff up, etc., etc., etc. I realize that this is the focus of this blog, but, wow!, it's just so....predictable. Anonymous is the worst offender, of course, but the blog itself suffers the same problem. And God forbid if Writer, Rejected gets his/her novel published. Anonymous would be on his/her ass so fast for being a sell-out, for using his/her blog in some way (that he couldn't articulate) to land the deal, for being (let's face it) accepted rather than rejected. But then I start getting the feeling that rejection is a self-fulfilling prophecy around here. It's one's reason for being (at least on this blog), right? So have at it, folks. And feel free to flog me all you want: I won't be around to enjoy the party. (But, please, "Writer, Rejected": Please think about doing something that transcends the basic gist of this blog. My advice? Be radical and shut it down, putting the time you would normally spend on this blog into your novel -- or maybe a even new novel, putting the ten-year one aside for a bit? I'm dead serious. And, believe it or not, the advice is well-meaning.)

I aim to transcend nothing, dude.  I'm just trying to understand. But this should not stop you from being the one to make a blog that transcends stuff. That would be cool, and I would definitely be a reader of your blog.  Thanks for your concern about my time and my novel.  But I'm doing just fine.

Joey Said: ^ Completely agree. I've found certain (many!) posts on this blog interesting, but I'm not so interested in having WR throw red meat at the commenters (look, an undeserved publication! doesn't that make you mad??? be angry! be angry!) over and over again. It looks like a good way to achieve a nice little echo chamber, but in the end, as anon noted, this just becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Maybe it's fun; I don't know. But I've never been fond of agitprop, and this site increasingly seems to run on a set formula of posts designed to goad commenters into responding angrily and resentfully over things they have little control over. Oh well. Good luck with it. I honestly have enjoyed reading many posts here, but...I've begun to feel I could drop by once a month and I'd see the same posts and arguments posted over and over again. WR posts a literature is dead or they don't deserve it post. Some agree. Some don't. Some flame. WR cheerfully asks for no flaming. Two days later, he posts another bit of flame-bait. Repeat ad infinitum. It's disappointing. There aren't that many blogs out there that focus on the litfic publishing world at a personal level. But I just can't jive with the gimmick of repeatedly reading things that are supposed to make me bitter, frustrated, or resentful toward other people. Oh well. Good luck, WR. I'm going to take some time off to do some writing and subbing instead of reading and whinging, and I hope, at some point, you try something more than the call-response thing here. Cheers, all.

Thanks for wishing me luck.  I truly appreciate (and need) it.  Please feel no obligation to become bitter, frustrated or resentful; that is not my goal.  I just call 'em the way I see 'em. Sorry to disappoint you by not adding more personal words about my experience in "litfic publishing," though I think I've pretty much laid it all out in my path of rejections.  Maybe I'll reveal myself and really go to town. But probably not. In the meantime, peace out, bro.

Anonymous said:  I recognize myself as one of those being criticized, yet I still agree with the previous two comments. They're dead-on.  But other literary sites engage in blatant Toadyism. They wouldn't allow any complaints about the status quo. You'd get hit with the W or B bombs (Whiner and Bitter). You get hit with those bombs on LROD, if you point out problems of fairness. I see that the guy on McCain's campaign staff who called people "whiners" had to resign. I can never get it: why, in the literary world, that word is automatically applied to people who have legitimate complaints. But, yeah, you commenters above are right in saying that LROD is predictable and repetitious. Maybe we should all just shut up. Maybe we're all tired of this. Change won't happen. This is an exercise in futility.

Maybe we are all tired. Or maybe it's just you: tired of me. But I have a book to read and an LROD book club to run and more rejections to post, which sometimes spark a flame or two. I have more to understand about what gets published and what doesn't and why.  Also about what is going to happen to literary fiction (and the fate of the book) in general as well as my own "litfic" novel in particular.  So, I'm not closing anything down just yet.  I'm not tired of myself, I guess.  But you are free to come and go at will.  

John Said: Now, I'm new here, but one thing that interests me is how little actual literary fiction I see, notwithstanding the site concerns the rejection of same. W,R has won awards, but she won't post what she's written, as far as I can tell. I go to the blogs of those who identify themselves on the comments, and ditto. I wonder how many rejections some of these folks actually get. (I got two this morning before I came here, by the way, and you can find links to my published stuff on my blog.) Now, some folks may call this humor-challenged, but it reminds me of Bukowski's story about the workshop where everybody read their stuff and bs-ed about it, but nobody actually submitted.

Every rejection posted from the very beginning is mine, and is real, as indicated by the actual posting of actual rejections (read back to June, 2007). And so that's hundreds!  Other writers have written in and sent rejection stories and actual rejections, and I've always noted them as from anonymous LROD readers.  So, are they real? Yes. Otherwise, what would be the point? How many rejections do I actually get.  More than I care to count.  I think a lot of readers submit their work a lot of the time and get a lot of rejections.  Many things in the world are a sham, but not the rejected writer.

_______________________________

Okay, so that's my response.  No end of LROD in sight.  But thanks for your suggestions.  Keep coming by if you want to, and don't if you don't want to.  We're low-key around here about all that.  I'm not really trying to drive anyone to the blog, just writing about what interests me.  Do keep an eye out in the next edition of Poets & Writers.  Apparently there's going to be a little piece about this blog in deputy editor Kevin Larimer's column.  It will be interesting to see what his editorial take is on LROD.  (I don't expect him to love it, do you?)

Iowa MFA Grad Speaks Out

I love the LROD commenter "Iowa Grad" who posted over on the Blah, Blah, Blah post (66 comments and going strong; you people are insane).  Minus the MFA, I feel as if Iowa Grad and I are kindred souls.   Here it is, his/her searing response to one of the bitter bobs (not me, though I am bitter):

Hey, angry anon: I have an MFA from Iowa. I earned it in the late '80s, wrote three unpublished novels before publishing my first book eleven years after getting the degree. I also taught as an adjunct at several colleges, sometimes earning a whopping sum of $1,000 per month for teaching four classes, with no health benefits or retirement, etc. It's been twenty years now since I got my degree, and I've published a few books and have a good job, but I still get rejections from little magazines and book publishers alike. That's part of the business, buddy. No one owes you squat. Nobody. Oh yeah...I'm a first-generation college student and accumulated a boat-load of debt for all three of my degrees. Based on your rants (or maybe there's more than one angry anon on here), I should have been handed a sweet book deal and a cushy job upon graduation. I guess I'm failing to see how you and I are different, except that I've worked my ass off to get where I am, and all you seem to be doing is bitching and moaning. I'm exhausted by the anti-MFA rant. I've never -- ever -- had an editor or agent ask me where I went to school, and I quit mentioning it on my cover letter once I realized that, no, it didn't get me anything. Hell, I'll go one step further and say that there's probably more anti-Iowa folks out there than pro-Iowa folks ready to open their doors and hand me a fat check. One more thing: Would I care if you liked my work? If you did, great; but if you didn't, no, not really.

MBA Not MFA

My petulant banner ad at the bottom of the blog has changed yet again. Where once they sported faulty links to rejection, cheerleaders, potties, and medical devices, now my ads feature higher education.  Yesterday, LROD was promoting business school ads.  Nice!  Looks like those bastards at Google AdSense are trying to tell me to get a real job. 

Publish (Your Own), or Perish

At the risk of losing more readers due to the hairy ongoing debate over academic writing and literary journals, I want to make a public response to this dude's comment:

a nameless (and blameless) editor said...

"Sigh. I have been irritated by these comments on this blog and only wonder what the motive could possibly be. Will some people never learn?This is not the day of Flannery O'Connor or F. Scott Fitzgerald or whoever your heroes happen to be. Their day is past. You probably don't use a typewriter to draft your stories, either. In case you haven't noticed, literature is more or less an academic industry now and the MFA has become its gold standard, even outside of the so called "ivory tower"; almost every literary agent under 30 has an MFA. You expect to be taken seriously without one? Think about it, people.I hold a fiction editor post at an upper tier journal. While we are technically open to anyone, I do have to wonder about those outside academia who are submitting. I have to question your motive.

And I'll tell you why my serious attention is given to submissions that come from an MFA graduate or student. First, because it shows dedication: he or she is serious about the writing craft; this person has decided to make the craft his or her professional career. Second, because it shows that a qualified authority has also seen at least some ability in this person's writing, and is guiding them appropriately. But there is also an unavoidable third reason. As a teacher my salary does comes from student tuition, and I say with confidence that all teachers in my position realize this. It behooves us to support the very system that keeps us going, so common sense says to pay closer attention and give extra support to those who are part of it. You don't have to have the MFA yet, but as long as you're working on it, it shows that you're serious.

Even if you choose to ignore me, think of the practical considerations, people. If you don't have an MFA or aren't working on one, I have to ask: what are you doing??? This is an academic journal of new writing; almost everyone who reads it is teaching writing or somehow connected to the "ivory tower".

Among journals, we are among the more generous; besides the token copies and discounts, we pay $20 per page for literary fiction. It usually works out to around $200 for an accepted story. This is a nice perk, but if you're not a student, you're simply taking these funds away from those emerging or established professionals they were intended for. Surely you don't expect to survive on acceptance monies alone!"

Dude: First, why blameless? I don't even get that; you must feel guilty about something. Second, I don't have an MFA, and I have won your upper-tier journal's literary contest, or at least I've been a runner-up in several just like yours. And if you are the Iowa Review (which I know you're not because D.H. would never write such classist drivel), I've been a finalist for your fiction award. Readers: I say it's worth all the money I laid out for those academic review contests, every cent, because the conests are blind, and it never mattered that I didn't have an MFA, and now I get to shove it in this nameless editor's face (not my usual style, but justified, I think). Also, I say this: it's a pretty sad state of affairs when editors of well-established academic journals admit that they would rather publish work by their own (or other) MFA students, than publish good writing. Period.

The death of fiction: case closed.

In Defense of Academe

In response to a blog post from yesterday, a hostile commenter left this bit of muscle, when I'd written: "As for the criticism of literary academia on this blog, I welcome it, along with any other critical thought about any other topic, including the blog itself. I think a lively exchange of ideas is healthy, don't you?"

"No. Not if you're criticizing academia. Without it there would be no journals, nowhere to publish fiction or poetry, no awards or support of any kind for writers. Remember that. How dare these uneducated (and probably unpublished) writers criticize the MFA, the academic system, and journals? Probably because these journals reject their work. There is no substitute for paying your dues and learning. Go back to school, work your way up. You'll be happier, and in the end you will be published."

I hope such a narrow, ungenerous response does not represent what we might find inside those ivory towers! But anyway, we've been dancing around this topic for months, so we might as well have it.

Question of the Month: "To MFA or not to MFA?"

Readers, you decide.

Subtropically Fast

A reader sent in this form rejection for LROD consideration. It is from Subtropics Magazine and carries this funny backstory:

" I'm in the south and mail gets to Florida in a day. I mailed my submission to Subtropics on Monday, Feb 11, in the late afternoon. So it wouldn't have arrived Tuesday morning but could have gotten there at University of Florida by Wednesday, making it to David Leavitt's office with the mid-morning campus delivery --- at the very soonest.

Subtropics is known for speed --- they usually send a response by e-mail in a few weeks. I have several e-mail form rejections from them because I have been trying hard to get in there. But this last one came so quickly I wonder how they even had time to open it, much less consider.

As I said, I mailed it out Monday afternoon - and the e-mail form is dated one o'clock Wednesday.I know it takes only a second to reject an awful or clearly inappropriate submission, but I do read Subtropics closely and I do feel this is a well-honed and publishable story - but they certainly didn't give it any time at all. There was no pondering of subtleties or dwelling on the afterthoughts the story leaves you, that's for sure.

So I'm left wondering, how many words did they even read before chucking it? Just my first and last name? Or the missing MFA/PHD that's supposed to follow it?"

Not All It's Cracked Up To Be

For those who have complained about an obvious link between MFA programs and getting published, you will LOVE this article over at Vulpes Libris. Here's a highlight:

"Alice Munro, while teaching writing at York University in the 1970s, describes the time a student who wasn’t in her class brought her a story to read. “I remember tears came into my eyes because it was so good…she asked, How can I get into your class? And I said, Don’t! Don’t come near my class, just keep bringing me your work. And she has become a writer. The only one who did.”

Other famous writers echo this sentiment, while addressing a variety of topics. It's a great read.

Would Your Prefer A Fortune Cookie Rejection?

A reader inspired a final "question of the month" for 2007 with this letter:

I'm kind of upset about a recent form reject from FIVEPOINTS. The submission was targeted -- I actually do read their magazine, I like some of the stories in it, and what I sent was completely targeted to it and highly polished, sent out only after close analysis of what they publish. It was addressed to the editors, went out with a personalized cover letter, and so on. And in return? Well, you'll get more insight out of the paper slip you pull out of a Chinese fortune cookie ... and their cheap slip wasn't all that much bigger. But that gave me an idea, so here goes: My suggestion to them and other journals is to go ahead and run with the "fortune cookie" motif. It's cute, it speaks to their level, it's easy to mass produce, and for serious-but-undiscovered writers it helps take out the vacuity of this whole routine. They don't have to send us the cookies but maybe they should go the extra mile and print "learn Chinese" with a word on the back side, or at least give us a few lucky numbers at the bottom so we won't feel so cheated out of postage and paper and time and feel so trampled from the deal. Maybe they could list the names of a few other journals worth supporting, so we could take the advice and get some more SASEs out in the mail. I mean, I was so incensed by the cheapness and thoughtless of their tiny slip which had been sent in response to what I know is a great and well-written story that I took another close look at my issues and did some googling on the contributors. And as a result I did find out one interesting thing about FIVEPOINTS: as far I can tell every last one of their contributors are either teachers or MFA graduates, so I figure that until I become one of those I won't ever meet the needs of that magazine.

Suppose for a minute you could receive your literary rejection in some form other than an email or a letter (i.e., a cake, singing telegram, melting ice sculpture, or fortune cookie). How would you most like to receive your next rejection?