TO MFA OR NOT TO MFA?

That is the question, and one most emerging writers will grapple with at some point in their creative trajectories. There are many good reasons to pursue an MFA in Creative Writing; there are perhaps equally many rendering such a pursuit unnecessary. The fact of the matter is—as in most complex, multi-faceted considerations—the question of whether enrolling in an MFA program is ‘worth it’ depends entirely on the goals, needs and disposition of the individual writer. The question at hand is not ‘is this right/good?’ but ‘is this right/good for me?’

Pros:

- A Creative Writing MFA is a terminal degree, meaning it’s the highest level of education available in the field of creative writing, thus qualifying (this is significant!!) successful candidates to be professors of writing. If you want to teach creative writing at the collegiate level—not literature or English, which are adjacent but separate fields requiring doctorates—this MFA is your ticket. Usually these positions are adjunct, but now and then someone wants a whole-ass full-time tenure-track creative writing prof, so keep searching for your unicorn if that’s your dream—there’s currently an opening at Princeton.

- An MFA is a guaranteed point of access to creative and critical community. The caliber of that community depends on the caliber of the program. ‘Caliber’ does not in this case imply that hugely competitive MFAs are excellent while more readily accessible ones are lax. There are many nuanced factors that comprise a given MFA’s caliber—is the faculty deeply and personally invested in student growth and well-being? Is the MFA teaching and thesis supervision largely sustained by published, independently successful authors? Does the atmosphere foster a balanced blend of rigor and inquiry, praise and critique? Are generative relationships seeding and blossoming?

Peers and professors actively engaged with your writing are a vital asset if, like me, you found yourself on an ‘island’ with no immediate recourse to opportunities for growth and refinement in your craft. This is slightly subjective, of course—online writing communities abound, and urban contexts typically boast the privilege of various open-enrollment classes and workshops. I wanted a structured, incarnational context—something more embodied than zoom—offering an exchange of its high investment in me for my high investment in it, which is how I ultimately alighted at Seattle Pacific.

- Are you willing to relocate? Great. Need to stay put? No problem. The somewhat recent advent of low-residency options will be highly advantageous to anyone unable to up and move but still desirous of a physical ‘in-person’ learning experience. Low-res programs (like SPU’s) are generally structured around several deep-dive, full immersion residencies occurring over two years. For me, this looks like two ten day residencies on location with my cohort intended for tutorials, workshops, advisor sessions, and craft talk guest lectures. MFA course offerings have become hugely versatile—there are traditional residency options, low residency options, and several that offer the curriculum entirely online

Cons:

- $$$$$$$!!!! But don’t panic: many thousands are not universally required. On the contrary, there’s an admirable number of programs that offer full tuition plus stipends to successful applicants. These MFAs tend to be fiercely competitive and extremely small, usually admitting 8 to 10 students per year. There’s never a good reason to not attempt to be one of the lucky few, so if money is a concern, look into the schools that offer full funding first.

- If you’re willing and able to pay a little but not a lot, (obviously ‘little’ and ‘lot’ are entirely relative terms) there are many good opportunities at your disposal, but you can still be shrewd! I’ll offer my own case as an example of how MFA costs can look and how research and self-advocacy can sometimes put money back in your pocket—

I first saw Seattle Pacific’s MFA advertised in Image Journal, a publication I love and admire. The particular attractions for me were many—this MFA uniquely encouraged the cross-pollination of writing and spirituality, a significant draw for anyone shaped by the magnetic intersection of theology and the arts. This amalgamation was such a part of the program’s DNA that, in addition to offering the traditional genres of Fiction, Creative Nonfiction and Poetry, it developed a ‘Spiritual Writing’ genre. All this without narrowly conceived dogmatic prerequisites or hovering expectations about loyalties to specific faith traditions. The pedagogical atmosphere invited deep engagement with faith through writing without dictating ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ approaches to said engagement.

The sticker price for this (private Christian) MFA? 40 grand, meaning 20 grand yearly for two years. We’re now in LOL territory. Let us imagine the marketing plight of anyone (aka the school that’s selling it to you) that must attempt to justify an expenditure of 40 thousand dollars for any degree in the arts, as though one might truly hope to make that money back in short order by way of, in my case…poetry. LOLOLOL.

SPU’s was not a highfalutin full-fees MFA, alas. I did not have 40 thousand of dollars to casually spend, nor was my household willing to acquire more student debt. So what did I do? Summoning all my masculine energy, I fought tooth and nail to make them (SPU) match a financial offer from another school that left a far, FAR more manageable sum. This actually involved some haggling with my course director, the man the myth the legend(ary poet) Scott Cairns, whose problem it became to get the school to allocate funds to me—he did. At first it was a little money. I balked, and it eventually trebled, receiving the mysterious but encouraging label ‘MFA Merit Scholarship.’ Without it, I couldn’t have enrolled. Even with this assistance, there was a little left to pay, so I picked up a part-time teaching job to cover the remainder, because I was willing and able. I know many people who were squarely determined to cover the full cost of their graduate or postgraduate studies—they applied yearly for various funding opportunities until something came through. If you’re impatient like me, this is less appealing, but I’ve seen tenacity and time-biding (literally) pay off time and again for many friends.

- Do not become a cash-cow. Never pay the sticker-price for any graduate degree—especially from a private institution—without kicking up some dust, sending some emails and doing some research. There’s obviously no guarantee of generating more financial assistance in this way—I got very lucky. But it’s ALWAYS worth the attempt, especially if you do not fall into an income bracket (I didn’t) that qualifies you for aid packages, and you’ve already exhausted external scholarship opportunities.

FAQS

- Will an MFA give me a better chance at publication?

Not really. Editors are wonderful about simply privileging the content they want to see. They’re not terribly troubled (I may go further and say they generally dgaf) about your credentials. *Don’t* get an MFA thinking it’s some kind of fast-track or shortcut to publication

- Can I be a college professor now?

Yes! Cool right? Check out the fuller explanation in paragraph one

- Will a CWMFA make me a better writer?

If it doesn’t, shame on it, or you, or a plague o’ both your houses. This is, to me, the most urgent and appropriate reason to get an MFA. My writing—and my reading—have been indelibly changed for the better thanks to my program and the people behind it in a way that I strongly suspect couldn’t be replicated in any other environment. The reading requirements alone would have ensured this, but the critical attention from my advisors and fellow MFAers—their meticulous, generous feedback, their guidance and help—have made me easily twice the poet I was when I began, and I haven’t even graduated. And finally, there’s the sense of fulfillment and satisfaction available to us when we can irrefutably prove we’ve worked at something—that our relationship to the thing (writing in this case) is privileged, elevated and worthy of recognition—notably the conferral of the title ‘master.’ But don’t take my word for it.

PLUG FOR BRAND-NEW WHITWORTH UNIVERSITY MFA

In case you missed it, Seattle Pacific University is currently being litigated into oblivion because it won’t hire gay people, (lawsuits were ongoing as of June 2024) you can read all about that online if you want to dive down a deep and wildly depressing rabbit hole

This reprehensible discrimination and its subsequent legal firestorm has caused the school to hemorrhage money, resulting in cuts to more than 40% of its programming—including my beloved Creative Writing MFA, which has been in operation there for roughly 25 years. I will be the last poet to ever receive this degree at SPU—sorry to put that in bold, but there’s a certain weight of legacy to it.

The good news/plug: this particular program—its ways, offerings, structure and faculty—has such an indisputably excellent track record that it’s been lifted and re-homed practically in its entirety by Whitworth University in Spokane, which hires gay people and is not being sued into oblivion. It will begin anew in January 2026—so KEEP YOUR EYES AND EARS OPEN if it might be the one for you or someone you know. I cannot recommend this course and its people highly enough. I will leave you with the words of its founder, Gregory Wolfe, which truly capture the ethos of the program, the profound and lasting gift to those that undertake it

:

“A graduate writing program that sought to educate students in the light of the rich theological and literary heritage of the Christian faith had never been attempted before and we knew it would be looked upon with close scrutiny and even skepticism.

What might such a program be all about, people wondered? Would it be a factory for churning out writers of “Christian fiction”: Amish romances, apocalyptic thrillers about the Rapture in which everyone but registered Republicans would be left behind? Would it produce writers who were simply preachers in disguise but who happened to know how to consult the Oxford English Dictionary for a few fancy words?

Hell no. Rather—

Like all MFA programs, ours would be grounded in the process of mastering craft, but that effort would be leavened by a deep concern for vision—in other words we would focus on form but also content—so that our graduates would be reminded that writing is not just verbal pyrotechnics but a passionate act of discovery, a hunger for the rich, often elusive truths about the sorrows and joys of the human condition.”