It’s Not Okay to Say Nothing.

So the Internet of writers blew up over an essay written by Ryan Boudinot called “Things I Can Say About MFA Writing Programs Now That I No Longer Teach In One.

I felt saddened that an Instructor would cling to the notion that “Writers are born with talent”; though I grieved more for the number of persons who consoled this concept of predetermination.


Indeed, certain mental attributes preclude writing mastery: analysis, theorization, extrapolation, recreation, innovation, and adaptability come to mind.  However, a lacking of one or more of these qualities can be traced back to various environmental circumstances or personable circumstances.

For example, America still lingers on the edge of authoritarian parenting.  One of the major drawbacks to this style of parenting is that it relies heavily on Negative Reinforcement.  Negative Reinforcement deters desire to commit an action.  When overused or used out of situation, this method of control damages a person’s sense of desire; and he/she may generally suppress desire altogether, or hide it, or feel ashamed to want something.

Desire drives intellectual skills, and a student raised from a heavily disciplined childhood will usually struggle in a creative writing course.  The student may lack confidence in herself, lack faith in her writing, or outright lack the prerequisite creativity traits; because she was too scared to exercise these traits growing up.

Now, I suppose these circumstances could be classed as Fate, but I don’t care; not in as it relates to teaching.

The teacher’s purpose is to identify weaknesses in the students, and help them to correct those weaknesses.

If an aspiring writer lacks key intellectual skills to become an elite writer, then help him/her to develop those skills!


Which brings me to the point that bothered me; and I speak not of the points he made, because he gives some good advice:

  • If you don’t have the time to write, make the time.
  • Write for yourself, not the teacher.
  • Make writing a passion first and a profession second.

I echo these sentiments.

This is what I found offensive:

“Things I Can Say About MFA Writing Programs Now That I No Longer Teach In One.”

…Seriously?

He perceived improvements within students’ work/mindset/passion but to failed to address his qualms with those students?  To those students?

I don’t know what goes into the MFA program, but If I pay for assistance in achieving mastery in a craft, and you are my teacher, I am purchasing your subjectivity.  If you don’t like my writing, I expect you to tell me what you don’t like and why.  If you don’t think I belong in the literary world then you better tell me why; because your critique has been paid for and is owed!

Those students got robbed of their feedback; not to mention the assistance that could/would/should have followed pending said feedback.

/end rant.

/end topic.


I’m aware I promised a post within the last week and failed to meet that promise.

I don’t know if anyone holds me to that, but I disappointed myself.  I’m aiming to put up two short stories between now and next Sunday, and at least one other non-story post (I’ll probably share some of my favorite Touhou arranges).

For now, I’m going write and listen to Desire Drive, because I used the phrase earlier in this post 🙂

Desire Drive by ZUN, arranged by TAMUSIC

Finish your weekend well ^_^

Love and Coffee

            Alicia loved to come into work early, before the light and the bright lights turned on, before the first customers congregated before the door and waited for her to flip the sign to “Welcome!” and greet them with grace.  She made herself a coffee from one the of shop’s full bodied blends: a dark roast, a deep bitter so thorough and so dominant behind a little half and half.  Alicia took this drink to the window wall and sat where the kitchen did not share its brilliant glow.  Palms and fingers cherished the warm touch, cheeks received a thousand warm wet wispy kisses, and her presence melded into the dying silhouette.

            One by one her co-workers came, letting one another in while Alicia absented herself from interaction.  She did not greet, did not turn to face or accept good morning bids except with a faint smile and a reply too feeble to dialogue.  If asked, she would justify her seclusion as meditation, but really she just shied from the world and its people.  Her shell of cool and calm protected her; won her peace by assuring no rivals, or allies for that matter.

            A new worker showed his new face at the door and unknowingly beckoned to her with his eyes and his knocks.  Alicia would have ignored him, let the café’s all-star go and greet him with all her endless blonde hair, but this boyish excuse of a man stirred her to blush and dream.

            She’d get up, greet him; smile and establish her charm.  When he saw her sitting so isolated he’d ask about her and feel drawn to the questions swirling around her enigmatic presence.  Wonder would infatuate him with tantalizing curiosity as his brewing fantasies realized each and every morning just how near and possible their love could be.  And when he finally approached her she’d string him along to an eventual confession and they’d get married the day before yesterday.

            Saylene opened the door for him, and she snared another lover to be denied and shelved with the other wannabe boyfriends.  They went to work, and Alicia hid in the refuge of her coffee, but the heat had faded to warmth and no longer clouded her chilly soul with that wonderful fog.

            Outside, the regulars mingled by the front door lights.  Among them, was there a dreamer infatuated with her consistent welcome?  A dreamer for this dreaming girl to wish about love and hope for luck to pre-determine and destine some chance encounter; to date according to fate and not her own courage.

            Alicia grimaced till frustration boiled over and she got up to let the customers in.

            The next morning, Alicia made her coffee and sat in her usual spot.  On her table, she set up a sign that read:

Hey new guy!

Wanna get love and coffee?

I’ve been dancing back and forth between “make love and coffee” versus “get love and coffee” for the last line. “Make love” comes off stronger, but I’m worried it’ll be misinterpreted as “let’s have sex and coffee”. Let me know if you have an opinion on this!