Okay so I didn’t really graduate from a full degree program; I only had a little more than the minor. (Electives for the win, without the hassle of the senior project) But it’s a sentiment I’ve heard expressed from my fellows who have come through full degree programs and are now transitioning out of the life of a student-writer. Confession time: I’ll admit it, I have this problem too. I am one of those writers who have since fallen a part during the transition -out- of a creative writing program.
For two years now I’ve been able to blame my lack of writing on grad school, and the excuse is true enough. I honestly did not have time to do much between a job, internships, and my course work. It is also true that I didn’t try very hard to get anything done either, but it was okay because once I graduated I’d have time again to pursue my writing. Right? (Hah!) Well it’s been three months now and I’ve produced very little – as in under 10,000 words when I used to be cranking out 10,000 at least, weekly.
Initially, I freaked. And to be honest, I’m still a little freaked but I’ve recently come to a better understanding of the problem. The initial conclusion that I jumped to was that – Oh noes!!1! I must be irreparably broken! But that’s really not true, just some passing melodrama. It’s not quite writer’s block that I have. If anything, I’m too attached to the world building process at the moment. I have five solid ideas right that I’ve been developing. (Three of them short stories or perhaps novella length.) And in my head they continue to grow. The problem isn’t of inspiration; the problem is that I suddenly find the act of writing, uncomfortable and alien.
I’ve grown so used to writing within the structure and safety of a classroom environment that I am now totally spoiled. Being a student was great – an able and willing support/critique group was always on hand. There were deadlines to keep you moving forward, and prompts at the ready when I got stuck. I had a schedule. Pieces were turned in on Friday so I wrote Monday-Thursday. I would write before dinner and edit afterwards before bed time. I couldn’t slack off or procrastinate, or else I wouldn’t have anything to turn in and that would have been bad. Bad for my GPA. Bad for my graduate school prospects. Etc. Etc.
It was a magical time, but tricky. Writing ceased to be a solitary activity and became something done for an assignment, for a teacher, or for a grade. There was always an external reason to be working on a student piece, and I feel like I’ve lost sight of that internal satisfaction that I used to get from writing in the first place. And it’s my own damn fault really and I have no one to blame but myself. The change was just so subtle, evolving slowly over the course of four years. It snuck up on me! So now in addition to finding my groove once again, I’m dealing with the guilt of having allowed myself to end up here in the first place. The guilt thing is stupid, needless, and not helping matters so I really ought to just let it go.
It will be okay though. This is just a temporary (hopefully) and awkward transitional period. I do not write this to point the finger at college writing programs or to imply that they are evil. They are what they are. They take an adjustment and they require a readjustment. I learned from them and grew as a writer. Now I just have to grow -beyond- that environment.
If any of you have any advice on how you weathered this or personal stories, I would love to hear it. Or any other words of encouragement or commiseration if you to are a recent graduate too. Share and share alike; we’re all in this together right?
/End of Line
~ L.
Recent Barks