The Perils of Pride

Once, not so very long ago (well, it was over a decade ago but for a 26 year old, what is that really?), pride proved to be my undoing. Pride in my talents and achievements. Pride of being perceived "better than the rest". The self-perceived mighty fell a great distance (let's embrace the drama, shall we?). For a long time, I retreated into the shell of self-deprecation and a real lack of belief in my own work, until gradually, slowly, the confidence returned and vestiges of that old pride began to rear its ugly head again.

And then I came here and was surrounded by talent. It's what programs like these do to you, especially if you're an international writer, living in a country where English is the spoken language in only certain social circles. You're no longer competing with other citizens of your own country, but reading and appreciating the work of others who, having lived, breathed and grown up with just the one language, present a whole other picture to you. My dreams when I got here began to shift within months until they finally came back full circle to the MFA. Having nine academic months and one year of this life, I realize I can do this for another 2 or 3 more years without a loss of expectation. It was everything I wanted my experience to be and then some. Perhaps my life would've been a lot more fuller had it been filled with literature classes, but then that was exactly what I liked about the program here: the need to impose your own structure and discipline.

For any serious writer willing to put regular life on hold for a while and write, I would recommend this program. If only to test and understand yourself as a writer. To fully comprehend what you're in for. And of course, to better yourself, to take the time given for experimentation, adopt a few styles, find your voice, all that jazz. It's the cure for pride. It reminds you how much you have to learn, but at the same time, that you are "good enough" to be taken seriously, pseudo-intellectual nods noted.

It's also taught me that it's okay to not always know exactly what the road ahead looks like. A general idea is fine--you might know what you don't want to do, to take what opportunities come your way--the rest you can make up as you go along. I've been a planner for a long time, but it wasn't always this way. Time, circumstance and perhaps an iota of upbringing and family have brought me here. I've always wanted to have plans, contingency plans if those fall out and contingency plans of contingency plans. But all the planning in the world, as cliched as it may sound, can fall short sometimes and then what're you left with? So, perhaps a general idea is better. I know that I'd like to be involved in the writing world; it could be newspapers, magazines, trade book publishing. I would like the MFA to help guide me there and in doing so, give me the time (both contact time with tutors and my fellow writers) and experience (in the teaching of others) to give me a better idea of the sort of person I'd like to be after. Nothing is decided. Nothing is set in stone. But I'd like to be given the liberty to find my own way, now that I know I can.