I’ve been thinking about applying for an MFA program, lately, as it would afford me time to write a real novel. Not just a 30-day NaNoWriMo marathon novel, which is all about quantity over quality, but a real, honest-to-goodness time-consuming, thoughtfully-penned novel.
That, quite frankly, is both exhilarating and totally terrifying.
Part of the terrifying aspect is that, like any application for school, you’re supposed to write up a succinct cover letter detailing any awesome aspects you bring to the table, which would convince them that you’d be an asset and a credit to the program. You’re supposed to sell yourself. They want to know about honors you’ve achieved, fellowships/grants/scholarships you’ve been granted, people you’ve impressed.
Sometimes, I wonder whom I’ve really impressed, or what I have to show for the past two years of freelancing work. I’m not saying it hasn’t been fun, but it hasn’t exactly added up to the kind of career I used to dream about when I was a starry-eyed creative writing major. Mostly because I haven’t been doing much creative writing.
Hence my desire to keep up with my haiku-a-day project, to do NaNoWriMo, to take on the 3-day Novel Writing Contest, etc.
So I have been asked to think about my goals, my dreams, my future—as these little questions are meant to prod you to write something about those types of things—and I am wondering where I really aim to go these days. Although I certainly enjoy writing about sex, and probably will always have an interest (some might say obsession) with this area, it’s not necessarily the area I want to specialize in forever. It’s just one of many interests, and it’s very easy to get pigeonholed when you write a sex column and run an erotica website.
I guess what I’m saying is that I’d like to be someone with a life outside the bedroom, to not be boxed into my boudoir, no matter how comfy it may be. Now the only question is where to go from here?
Moving beyond the
bedroom can be challenging;
I like a challenge
