Lisa Romeo

Two years ago, I wanted to restart a writing career dormant for eight years. My undergraduate degree was in journalism and I had worked as a freelance writer and public relations specialist but, hoping to stretch my writing muscle, I decided on an MFA in nonfiction. I knew an MFA program is more focused on craft than career and might not prepare me for any specific job, literary or otherwise. But, I still wanted one; I wanted to immerse myself for two years in nothing but writing. And how could learning to write better not help any writer's career?

Now, a few months shy of the degree, I see I wasn't far off from my initial thinking. My writing is much improved and I've landed some respectable bylines which didn't happen because of the degree, but were not a coincidence either. It was more organic: Without the program, I wouldn't have gotten serious about higher quality work, or taken myself seriously as a writer. I would not have read as widely or critically, or have addressed my writing weaknesses so aggressively.

Other writers agree. "The 'FA' stands for 'fine arts,'" says essayist and critic Vince Passaro, who earned an MFA from Columbia before writing for Harper's, Esquire, and The New York Times Magazine. "If that's not what you are going for, then look elsewhere. Yes it was through a faculty member that I met the magazine editor who gave me my start. So in an academic way, the MFA had no influence, but in terms of professional contacts, for me it was central. That said, I don't think aspiring magazines writers are well-served pursuing MFAs. For professional contacts, certain journalism grad programs are far more appropriate. And once you've been published, the whole issue of your provenance doesn't matter."

Pursuing an MFA in nonfiction will help any writer improve. But editors won't green-light a query because you have an MFA. Agents won't swoon. It's not the degree, but the writing chops one develops in the program, that matters.

According to Alicia Miller, senior editor at Hemispheres, "I couldn't tell you which of our regular writers have MFAs. For a fiction piece or essay, that detail might catch our eye. But we're paying attention to where a writer's published, relevant clips and expertise, and the fit of the pitch/​submission."

Harriet Brown edits the regional magazine Wisconsin Trails, and has freelanced for Elle, Vogue, Ms., and The New York Times. She has an MFA from Brooklyn College, but agrees with Miller. She says, "I don't think the degree was helpful to me at all in terms of getting writing assignments. As an editor, it means nothing to me in a query letter. All I care about are writing samples."

Yet the MFA grad's attention to craft often shows in the writing, says Eve Bridburg, a literary agent with Zachary, Shuster, Harmsworth in Boston. "An MFA indicates a writer takes their work seriously. In a cover letter for a literary memoir, the MFA might make a slight difference. But it's the writing that really matters."

After earning an MA in fiction from Boston University, Bridburg started Grub Street, a Boston nonprofit writing center which, like The Loft in Minneapolis, offers instruction, support, and networking at a level she says equals some MFA programs, at a sliver of the cost.

"In any urban center, you can find rigorous instruction, and peers writing at and above your level," she says. "Unless it's fully funded, an MFA is very expensive. You can spend that time writing, reading, going to conferences and workshops, and taking classes for less money. Networking is more effective than getting an MFA."

Yet networking is also a selling point for some MFA programs. Faculty and fellow students become valuable resources for future projects. Patsy Sims, director of the MFA in Creative Nonfiction at Goucher College in Baltimore, says, "A person with contacts is ahead of a person without. But I wouldn't choose a program based on that. Choose based on faculty. The MFA is an opportunity to work on craft, not career."

Shonna Milliken Humphrey, who has an MFA from Bennington, writes for regional magazines and heads the Maine Writers and Publishers Alliance, says, "An MFA is a badge of accomplishment, but writers need experience to land the gigs."

Faculty point out that the MFA classroom is not the place to perfect pitches or pursue publishing goals. Ann Hood, a novelist, memoirist, and essayist for magazines including Redbook, O: The Oprah Magazine, and More, is on two MFA faculties. "Honing your craft is the value of an MFA program," she says. "It's the only reason to do it. If you see an MFA as a ticket to publication, you are in the wrong business. If you learn to think critically about your work and the work of others, to write honestly, and strive for fine writing, then your work will make its way to publishers."

She's right, of course, though I think it's possible to discern how craft and career converge. In my experience, one way is to engage every faculty member and visiting writer in a conversation about their work and their path to publication. Working diligently on craft, I still found it was possible to prepare some workshop manuscripts with an eye to mainstream publication. I shared my freelance writing goals with supportive faculty members, who helped me re-envision my approach, and consider better marketing decisions. Others -- common in MFAs -- said forget about publishing and spend the time on craft alone. My opinion: you need a balance; at least I did.

The clip file I accumulated during the MFA program includes pieces in The New York Times, O, literary journals, Web sites, newspapers, and several anthologies. Many fellow students are publishing too, some more focused on literary (and yes, often nonpaying) markets because it supports other goals -- they are working on novels, literary memoirs, and poetry. Some may never publish, but the program transformed their literary life.

I'll be chipping at my MFA loan for a few years, and every future successful article pitch or essay acceptance (and rejection) is anyone's guess. Degree or not, everyone's writing must stand on its own.

Personally, I think the MFA experience (not the degree) will help my freelance future, but publication is a byproduct, not an expected outcome. Meanwhile, I had what any writer would love: two years to write, read, discuss books and writing, wallow in language, examine craft, and develop a community of writing buddies to sustain me for years.

An MFA degree won't get you published. Frankly, it shouldn't. That you do on your own, the same way you get into an MFA program -- you write your way in.

Originally published on Mediabistro.com on April 1, 2008.

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