This whole "readjusting to normal life following a ten day residency which represented the culmination of a two year MFA program" thing is tougher than I thought. More than simply drying out from the copious celebratory drinks, it's all on me now. I'm without a faculty member approved reading list, free from weekly reading commentaries and annotations. I've got zero deadlines. I have no one to answer to except myself.
I am an eternal student who has suddenly found himself without mandatory homework. Bitchin', right? No way.
This writing thing is all me now. Getting pages written and revised, books read and studied, and meeting deadlines is solely my responsibility. That whole structured support system (sans those wonderful friends and colleagues I have been blessed with--they're coming with me) is in my rear view. And of course: I'm terrified.
But I'm willing to do the work. I'm in this for the long haul.
I try to view what I did during my two years as my normal life... reading, writing... I'm still doing all that. I'll write you in three weeks and ask to see what you've written so far. Count that as your first packet due. :)
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