Source: It was revealed to me in a dream
Local woman achieves greatness by (not) going back to school
The other day I had a dream that out of nowhere, I got accepted into a fully funded MFA program in the States.1 It was one of those dreams where lots of things are happening at the same time – people generally milling about in cluttered rooms, stacks of books overflowing over into other rooms, and enough doors and glass panels to bump into endlessly because the layout was so incoherent. I’ve been having a lot of strange dreams and terrible sleep recently because of the heat. Love to be living through a climate emergency!
But anyway, back to the dream: somehow, the fact that I had gotten into the program was big enough news that it made it into a national Malaysian newspaper, which was projected up on a wall (again, recall the incoherent layout of this dreamscape). My parents were there and they were so happy about it - I asked my dad what I should do if there wasn’t enough money to live on, and he just waved his hand and said not to worry about it. No thought at all as to whether this was actually a good career move or the fact that this would involve yet another transcontinental move, even further away from home. I woke up shortly after that with the feeling that I had something to look forward to, and then realised that oh, no, there actually wasn’t and I had to get up and go to work.
You know that feeling you get when you have something life-changing to look forward to, like moving house or getting a new object that you think is going to really elevate your living experience? I think I’m addicted to that feeling but in the form of validation from institutions that are supposed to be authoritative and prizes that I swear are going to change my life if I can just get to the next one, or the one after that.
I told a couple of friends about my dream and one of my friends, whom I can always count on to give me a much-needed dunking in the cold waters of reality, said: “You don’t need an MFA, you have an agent. What on earth. Finish a project for once.”
The sad part is, he’s right. I’m just looking for an excuse to make myself feel like I’m doing something with my life again, surrounded by like-minded people. Never mind that I’ve actually really disliked a lot of the workshop spaces that I’ve been in. By the way, for those who don’t know, an MFA is a little degree you do (usually in creative writing or other arts) that is supposed to… help you get better at the creative writing and craft part, I think. I’m not big-headed enough to think that I don’t need any help, but also I don’t have the kind of money to spend to actually get one done, having already spent the equivalent on an equally useless degree in medieval literature.
There are things that I wish I could get from an MFA, like a cool community of friends who are all in the same city and we have a group chat that delivers zingers after zingers. We’re all also somehow impossibly attractive and single and have incredibly interesting backstories – also our bank accounts never run dry despite the number of brunches we have, and writing somehow always gets done.
The problem is just that life is not easy, and writing is even harder. Unfortunately, money aside, an MFA is not going to magically finish my book. It’s just going to remain a path untaken (but hey, if I go back to do a PhD in creative writing it’s still getting around the system!)
So what this newsletter is going to be is about things that I’ve read, operas and music that I’ve listened to, food I’ve eaten, and places I’ve been. Finding creativity in the smaller things in life, thinking about issues of craft and work, and mixed in with a little complaining and feeling sorry for myself occasionally. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Telling you guys which one would be too much of an insight into - to quote what someone once said, “my twisted mind”!