Fortunately, someone found my Sewanee ID where I’d dropped it yesterday on my walk out past the university farm, so no health scare for the goats. But today was the final class of my first summer term in the School of Letters MFA program, and it feels like the last day of summer camp. I’ve felt a little teary, almost melancholy, the past few days. I’ll miss this.
I’m going to miss the total immersion in writing, my fellow writers and our little community of kindred spirits, the ease of walking everywhere and living life on a more human scale. I’ll miss the crazy crows outside my window who start arguing so early in the morning. I’ll miss leaving my windows wide open all day and night.
Summer harvest of short stories
I’ll be heading home with three short stories in various stages of revisions. Short stories are a new format for me, since I’ve always focused on novels. They’re a faster way to learn, I’m finding. You can write more bad short stories faster than bad novels, and in a reasonable amount of time, you can even craft them into good short stories.
The fiction workshops have been the most useful part of the MFA curriculum for me. I’ve teamed up with a couple of people in my workshop class for a DIY workshop with just the three of us through the fall. It’s a brand new thing for me to be able to share my fiction and receive incredibly useful feedback, and I don’t want to wait until next summer to keep making progress in that way.
A daily habit of long walks
There’s so much sitting involved here — from three-hour classes to reading assignments to long stretches of writing — that I have craved being outside on long walks. The weather has been beautiful, so it’s a pleasure to strike out on explorations of the further reaches of campus, or explore trails (like Abbo’s Alley or the Tennessee Williams trail leading to the lookout with the enormous cross) or just pick a road and start walking. At home, I usually do daily walks or hikes with our border collie Daisy most days, but I don’t always have time for these long forays. Another thing I’ll miss.
A daily habit of writing
If you’re a writer, you probably notice that once you get that engine running smoothly, it’s easy to keep writing. The words flow easily, ideas seem to arrive fully formed. But when you stop, it can be tricky to get that machine going again. For me, it feels like trying to turn heavy gears, fighting rust and inertia. I’d like to say I’ll be able to stay in the flow once I’m back home, to carve out time every day for some fiction writing. Many days, I will. But life (and day jobs) have a way of crowding out that time for messing around with a story idea without feeling pressed for time. That’s been a huge luxury this summer, and one I look forward to enjoying again next June.
