cloudofunknowing

Hi all, I’m dusting off my GradCafe account too to chime in as a current UT-Austin student. I’m a 5th year candidate, a medievalist who works on Chaucer and his reception history, saints’ lives, and critical theory (especially psychoanalysis). I’m also a poet who completed an MFA before pursuing the PhD. I’d be happy to correspond if anyone has program-specific questions, ones about Austin, and/or being queer in the Austin area. Cheers!

Re: CW programs amenable to confessional/narrative poetry, I'd encourage you to investigate U of Houston's and U of Utah's programs (and, for that matter, the U of Southern California's also) while bearing the following in mind. To springboard off of what previous commenters have indicated, the CW PhD hybridizes elements of the studio MFA and the PhD in literary studies in a manner like and, arguably, unlike what you may have experienced in your MFA. There is far less time to write during a CW PhD, for example, based upon the poets I know who've attended and/or are attending such programs -- because of teaching responsibilities, for one, which may be less true if you also served as a TA/AI during your MFA. Along the same lines: the other thing that distinguishes a CW PhD program, at least hypothetically, from an MFA program is the requirement to think about your chosen genre of focus (poetry/poetics, fiction, creative nonfiction) critically as a "scholar" of that genre in addition to as a practitioner of that genre (as a poet, for example). That certainly involves literary history, to be sure -- the history of the 'confessional' poem in English, let's say, which could take you all the way back to the poetry of the fifteenth-century poet Thomas Hoccleve -- but as other respondents have noted, that assuredly also involves literary theory. So if confessional poetry is your jam, for example, you could be expected to construct a lineage of practitioners to which your work belongs. That might involve connecting such disparate poets as Berryman, Bishop (who disavowed the term), Lowell, Snodgrass, Plath, Sexton, etc -- those whose work bears the hallmarks of that heuristic -- and might also look into other more unlikely examples of the "confessional mode", ie Roethke, Jarrell, etc. You might also be asked to extend the chronology forward into the poetry written during centuries supposedly "after" the "confessional movement" had had its heyday. Is Kinnell a "confessional" poet (why or why not)? Is Olds (why or why not)? Is Rich -- and, to use her work as an example, what might gender and the theory (because it was a theory as much as a practice) that the "personal is political" have to do with writing based upon the material realities of one's life? Of course, if that is a definition of confessional -- and you would likely be required to invent such a definition -- does that mean that Wordsworth is also "confessional," Clare, or Hopkins? Moving into the 20th and 21st centuries, what about the movement sometimes called "post-confessional" (ie, the work of Olena Kalytiak Davis)? This doesn't begin to scratch the surface of questions related to poetic genres like "lyric," "narrative," etc, which have their own tangled histories. I elaborate like this to illustrate that a PhD program will likely require that you create and study such a genealogy (queered or not). Additionally, as others have already pointed out, some departments will (and won't) operate along a scholarly/creative binary -- where the operating assumption is that poets don't think about historical and/or theoretical issues related to the writing of poetry, for example. Virtually all of us involved in straddling both sides of these supposed extremes are well aware that the opposition is finally false, but that doesn't lessen its effect in how some departments operate on a day-to-day basis. It's also worth considering what the degree requirements are. Are you interested and/or willing in potentially gaining (or proving) reading knowledge in one or more foreign languages? Are you willing to teach not only intro creative writing courses (which might not be possible until you're a PhD candidate, program-depending) but also freshman composition courses? From the programs of study I researched when I was contemplating a CW PhD versus a Lit PhD -- and, for the record, I ended up going the Lit Phd route -- the number of required courses in pedagogy, methods, and literature/theory courses far outweighed creative writing workshops. This admittedly differs from program to program and would be worth researching in full to see what (does not) fit your interests and your goals. But an argument can be made for the fact that PhD's in either concentration make very little sense unless the kind of career you desire is as a teacher of creative writing and/or literature. To put it bluntly: if being an academic, with all the rigamarole that entails, isn't of interest to you, pursuing a PhD in either arguably makes little sense in terms of what you aspire for the future. That getting being a professor is the only thing that a PhD is good for -- far from it. The growth of alt-ac careers proves that lie. But it is very important to recognize that the reality for tenure-track positions in CW positions, which normally focus on one or more genres, is as dismal or, arguably, more dismal than for scholars and teachers of literature. As for which kind of program you should apply for: if you contemplate pursuing a PhD in literary studies as opposed to creative writing, I second what other respondents have said regarding looking into possibly taking graduate-level courses at a university near you if such is feasible. (If your undergraduate degree is in English, which is to say focusing on British and American literatures, this may be less urgent.) Regardless, what is important is having your application have its finger on the pulse of what is beating your chosen interest / area of focus (be that historical, genre-driven, cultural studies, etc). Your statement of purpose will need to articulate whatever that is and, ideally and/or necessarily, your writing sample will need to demonstrate it also. By this I don't mean that you need to have a 99% certainty of what your dissertation will be about before you even enter a PhD program. But an adcomm committee will want to see what you're aware of the critical conversations your declared field has already had in addition to those it is currently having. I posted a lengthy response to a post similar to this not too long ago that covers some of these points -- at least from my perspective as a poet and scholar trying to balance the vicissitudes of both job markets (which do have some some potential overlap), which you can find here: http://forum.thegradcafe.com/topic/88543-help-deciding-on-a-program/?do=findComment&comment=1058465713

There was a similar query to this posted not that long ago - though by someone preparing to apply to lit and cw programs - and I responded to this at length (see below). Like you, I applied to both kinds of PhD programs as an MFA'er and was faced with a similar decision. I chose the literary studies route over the cw one. The advice I was given by my mentors mirrored that of SimSimSim's: the redundancy of two terminal degrees in the same area, especially in a job market being what it is (and with the tenure-track cw market being its own distinct beast). For all of these programs, the other things to consider is "rank" (however defined) and job placement rate, especially in your articulated fields (genre of your creative writing, area for literary studies). I'd be happy to correspond about this via pm, too, if you like.

Remember, too, Imogen that whatever offer you accept will - in the fullness of this fever of a time - cause however many waitlists at your declined institutions to transform into acceptances! Not a small thing, that.

Is it fluency in the sense of being able not only to read in the language but also converse in it? Or is it a matter of being able to read primary/secondary texts in the language? I ask because these requirements - which do differ from program to program - tend to stress proficiency over fluency. With Latin being your primary language, picking up any other Romance language - especially re: being able to read in it - will be vastly easier than one from an entirely different language family. But, in truth, it really depends upon what other language would potentially be the most useful to your current and future research. Along with this: are you going into an English program, a Comparative Literature program? If you see a lot of important scholarship written in another language cited in a lot of the scholarship written in English that's important to your work, for example, then that'd be an obvious choice. Alternatively, if there's a language you've always wanted to learn for the sake of learning it, you could always choose that too. Many who work on early modern England, for example, will pick up Italian or perhaps French in addition to Latin; medievalists who specialize in the later Middle Ages in England often need facility in French and/or German (because of the scholarship written in those languages, for one) in addition to Latin. Etc. But it really boils down to the kind of work you intend to do and what having a facility in a certain language might enable you to imagine because of the encounter with that language.

A lot of solid advice here and, as I was contemplating similar choices to you several years ago, what I offer is a combination of feedback my teacher/mentors gave to me and opinions given to me by fellow poets who've done PhD's in lit/creative writing or currently are enrolled in such programs. As context is everything, here's mine: I have a MFA in creative writing and am now pursuing a PhD in medieval literary studies. When I applied, I was ambivalent over whether to pursue one in a specific field of literary/cultural studies or lit/creative writing. So I applied to both, knowing they're fiercely competitive, and I figured I'd decide once I knew where the chips fell. I ended up applying to ten programs total: seven creative writing programs and three in literary studies. Were I to do it over, without fail I'd apply to more of the latter than the former. As we all know, the job market for tenure-track positions in the humanities is dismal -- whether you want to teach creative writing or literature (or both). Some of the vicissitudes of the creative writing job market are a bit different from that of literature, however. There are now two kinds of terminal degrees in creative writing: the MFA (whether a two or three year program) and the PhD. In "theory," the MFA is still considered to be a terminal degree (more about this arguable point later). Because this is the case, there's a sense in which getting another terminal degree in the same field -- lit/creative writing -- is redundant. Granted, the doctoral degree consists of more than just more workshops, includes courses on the theory and practice of your chosen genre(s), etc, but it is still another terminal degree for a field where 99% of applicants already hold a terminal degree. While it is true that some job postings might specify that they want an applicant to hold a PhD in lit/creative writing or a related field, it is not true that that PhD must be in lit/creative writing in order for an applicant to be competitive. Where committees separate the wheat from the chaff -- degrees aside -- are publications. To put it bluntly: the market is such that you have to have a book and, ideally, one that's won a prize of some kind to be taken seriously as an applicant. For creative writing, publications are as important as having teaching experience and, arguably, more important when it comes to getting to the interview stage. At the minimum. But having a book, even a prize-winning one, is no surefire guarantee for a tenure-track job either. I've had conversations with many poets -- who've all published at least one book, and whose work has garnered national acclaim in the form of book prizes, fellowships, etc -- who have spent years in various forms of adjunct hell while looking for the unicorn of a tenure-track job teaching creative writing. And by prizes, I mean things like NEA fellowships, Whiting Awards, the Yale Younger, the APR/Honickman, etc. This isn't to say that no jobs exist or that people don't get them. But the reality of the creative writing job market is that, unlike literature jobs, positions are advertised in terms of a specific genre and/or genres, like: specializes in poetry with a secondary facility in creative nonfiction. That results in a much larger applicant pool for one position -- for all poets who also write nonfiction -- than for a job search for a scholar of the Renaissance, say. This holds true for the competition for spots in the creative PhD programs, too. As these programs are considered subfields/subsets of an English department usually, that means that the available spots for creative writers form a percentage of the total number of PhD students an English department can fund in a given year. So, if the department as a whole -- across all areas of study, medieval to postmodern -- is taking 15 students, let's say, only 1 or 2 of those spots may end up going to a poet or a fiction writer. So as with the job market, the number of applicants for the available spot(s) is exponentially larger than the number of spots available. And, in some programs, PhD and MFA applicants compete against each other for available spots (last I knew, the University of Houston was like this for creative writing). So the competition for creative writing spots is often not unlike the competition applicants face if they apply to specialize in one of the more popular periods of literary history (modernism, for example, or contemporary literature). The other thing it's important to note about creative writing PhD programs is that they are not like a longer version of a studio MFA. Every poet I've spoken to who's completed/is completing a PhD in creative writing has told me that they feel like they have less time to write (poetry) than they did as an MFA student. PhD students teach, which is very time-intensive. Now it's true that some MFA programs incorporate teaching into how they fund students, too, but that isn't always the case. But PhD students in creative writing are also expected to take courses in the history of their specific genre -- in addition to other coursework requires that might involve foreign language proficiency, literary theory, etc -- and to conduct research-driven scholarly writing about that genre in addition to writing imaginative examples of that genre. So a poet's scholarly work might involve the history of the lyric or the epic, for example; or a fiction writer specializing in the novel might historicize their engagement with epistolary fiction within the larger context of novels employing that convention across literary history. Which is to say that, unlike an MFA program where creative writers are generally treated as, first and foremost, creative writers -- in a PhD program that creative writer must prove herself to be a scholar also. The specific requirements will of course vary from program to program. But the PhD program will involve a particular kind of rigor that isn't, in the final analysis, what some poets and prose writers want to do (study literary theory, for example). A lot of information is available on the interwebs about the different PhD programs in the country that offer a creative writing specialization and/or offer you the chance to do a creative dissertation (another MFA thesis, more or less, but likely with a lot more scholarly apparatus surrounding it). I would encourage you to research them, see what kind of coursework and requirements each have, and explore what it is that you'd want to do with a PhD -- whether it's in creative writing or literary studies. But you should know that a creative writing PhD is a beast entirely different from the MFA. In your post, you mentioned that you wanted to increase your knowledge, expand your publishing connections, and grow as a writer (as a poet, I imagine you to mean). You don't mention anything specific about teaching and/or wanting to teach and/or scholarly work. Do you want to teach -- whether for the four plus years of a PhD program -- not to mention afterward as a profession? Do you want to write scholarship (however defined) in addition to writing poetry? If the answer to either of these questions is no, then a PhD in creative writing may not be something you'd enjoy. And if you do have an inner scholar nerd inside of you who enjoys scholarship for its own sake and/or a passion for teaching, I'd encourage you not to apply to creative writing PhD's and, instead, consider applying to programs in literary/cultural studies instead. An applicant with an MFA in creative writing and a PhD in English with expertise in 18th century literature, for example -- or any other field of literary or cultural studies -- is a double threat with two terminal degrees in two distinct areas, however adjacent the fields. For what's it worth.

This is a bit of a false binary I'm making here, but you're smart to be thinking about what might be called the tangible and intangible costs and benefits of your options. Like several others who've responded, I'm dismayed (but not entirely surprised) to hear that some academics have actively discouraged taking your "personal life" (i.e., relationship, distance from loved ones) into account when making your decision on where to attend. And while it's true that some academics (many, in fact) can and do spend extended periods of time away from their partners -- while in school or afterward while working -- this isn't at all a "one size fits all" situation. Not all of us are wired for what worked for Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick, for example, and it's worth repeating that there's no need for us to be either. (Aside: I wonder, too, about the gendered and engendering dynamics of this kind of advice in terms of the gender(s) of the person who advocates for what kind of scenario and how tailored said advice is to the prospective graduate student in question depending on their gender(s).) But as many already attending programs have indicated and/or who've been the partner for someone attending a program near and/or far, our academic and scholarly lives are hopelessly, complicatedly, and beautifully entangled. And, finally, indivisible. This is just my two cents. On the "academic" side of the equation: I agree that the programs you describe appear to be equal "on paper," though each offers unique opportunities not necessarily matched by the other. Being able to get a certificate in African Studies is certainly a selling point. Yet even taking into account the fact that your research interests likely will broaden and deepen into other areas falling under the umbrella of Postcolonial Studies once you begin coursework, reading for field/comprehensive exams, if African literature figures prominently in your dissertation (one or more chapters, I mean), that expertise will speak for itself in your scholarship in addition to any conference papers, presentations, articles, etc. The other school with a larger contingent of faculty working within Postcolonial Studies in a variety of ways is an equally valid selling point because, as you point out too, broadening the scope of your inquiry would be a good thing. The major unknown in this situation, of course -- the question of "fit" -- will be answered when you visit both schools. Part of that involves the atmosphere of the department: the engagement and overall morale of your peers in and outside of your fields (are they happy, do they feel supported by faculty, do they support each other, does competitiveness or pettiness run riot) and the engagement and morale of the faculty (are they invested in working with, training, and supporting their students; are they available; are any in your area getting ready to go on sabbatical or fellowships to other institutions, etc; how do the faculty in and adjacent to your fields get along with each other). Graduate students can and hopefully will speak to rivalries and/or friction between faculty and/or amongst themselves. Sometimes all-star scholars are wonderfully invested and engaged in fostering graduate students working within their fields, but this is by no means always the case. You, better than anyone, know what your learning style is and how you will flourish best. And, of course, there's the magical calculus of who you'll respond to best. It might be at the school with the larger group of Postcolonial scholars -- who knows? -- and it might be at the Midwestern school. Other academic tangibles: I'd agree that, theoretically, interdisciplinary coursework between departments relevant to your interests is hopefully possible; that's definitely something to ask about. Other important things to ask about on visits and to research include: what's the average time to degree for students within this department and/or what's the attrition rate? And, of course, job placement: where are the graduates getting jobs: what kinds of tenure-track jobs vis-à-vis the kinds to which you aspire (R1, SLAC, public versus private) do graduates get in and out of their fields, how many are lecturers or postdocs or adjuncting, how many move into alt-ac careers? Prestige and academic pedigree undeniably play a part in this, of course, but the numbers of each institution will also speak for themselves, and be prepared to ask for the hard data. Other things that might be relevant: how much departmental and university-wide support is there for attending conferences nationally and/or internationally; are there research fellowships you can apply for if you need to do archival work in the US or abroad, or to pick up another language for research? Now, on the intangible side, which is to say the "personal" side: as you point out, how far "fully funded" goes is incredibly important. I consider this here -- and not with the academics -- because, for me at least, financial solvency has a direct impact on quality of life and state of mind. The cost of living where each of these schools are located is most definitely something to consider. You know your financial situation best. But I think you're smart to acknowledge that the higher stipend of the NYC program doesn't necessarily translate into more money in your pocket, though perhaps staying in NJ would alleviate that somewhat. Another enormous factor that I never considered when I was preparing to enter my program -- and that I learned the hard way -- involves how many months of the year you're funded. Does your funding extend through the summer months and, further, do you have guaranteed funding during every summer or, alternatively, some summers? If your funding is contingent on you serving as a TA or as the instructor of record in your own classroom, does the university guarantee such positions during the summer? (If they don't, it's worth asking how they select who *does* get those positions.) If teaching isn't guaranteed, are there other opportunities available to help you make ends meet as a research assistant, working in a writing center, etc? And, perhaps most importantly, if you're paid on a monthly basis and if your fellowship actually covers 9 months out of the year more than a full 12, when are the gap months when you cannot rely on your funding to pay your bills. In my program, for example, those gap months run from June all the way through the end of September -- unless you're TA'ing or teaching during the summer session and/or otherwise employed in another capacity over the summer months. If I am not working during the summer session, for example, I don't receive a paycheck from the university until October 1st -- and must figure out how to make ends meet from the final paycheck received on June 1st all the way until October 1st. As far as the relational: I agree with what others have said re: trusting yourself to know what kind of situation will set you up for success. Like you, my partner and I have been in a long-distance relationship since I've been in my program and live roughly two hours away from each other (in Texas time, that's basically nothing as far as driving goes, but it's distance nonetheless). When I was applying to programs -- which were scattered all over the country -- we were likewise facing the possibility that, depending on where I did and didn't get accepted, the best opportunity for me might be in another part of the country. We were prepared for this but, like you, were hoping it might not turn out that way. I should say, too, that I did go across the country for my undergraduate degree (in North Carolina; I'm originally from Texas). And while it was a wonderful experience, it was also damn hard in ways I couldn't have imagined until I was actually doing it. I was prepared to do it again if need be, but I had no illusions about how much more vigilant I would be regarding self-care and support systems if and when I did find myself in a completely new place, without any of my friends or family, by myself. All of this is to say that you're wise to take into account the benefits of being closer to your partner as opposed to farther away. Were I in your situation without having visited the schools in question, I would definitely be leaning hard toward the school that's closer (in NYC) because I, for one, find moving incredibly stressful. And, yes, it is also expensive (it's worth asking if the university in the Midwest offers any way to defray the costs of moving). The slog of commuting, on the other hand -- whether by bus, train, or driving yourself -- can be similarly draining emotionally and financially. It's worth asking the students at NYC how many of them commute (and from where), how they do it, and how hellish (or not) their schedules are (I mean, for example, having to wake up at 4 or 5am in order to be on campus for a class that meets in the morning; or, alternatively, if all the graduate classes are at night, realizing that you may be getting home very, very late). I live outside of Austin and drive 25 miles to an outlying city transit center and then ride a commuter bus into Austin to get to campus on the days I have class and/or teach. In total, it takes between 1.5 to 2 hours to/from campus, and I use that time to get as much reading done as possible. This semester, I'm doing that two days a week -- which is an absolute godsend, although I get up at 5am on those days and don't get home until between 4-6pm -- but by the time I get home, I am done with thinking for the day. Because I'm all but out of coursework and am writing my dissertation now, I use the days I'm not on campus to write and/or take care of any household things that need doing, but the thought of having to take a night class (6pm-9pm), commute 1.5-2 hours home, and then potentially get up at 5-6am to teach a morning class is a prospect I dread having to face (but very well might). As I've written everyone's ears off, I'll quit while I'm ahead. But it's good that you're thinking about this from as many angles as possible, and I hope that visiting each campus will answer a lot of the questions you have!

I'd second UCSB as a place that might be of interest - Aranye Fradenburg, who heads that division, is an astonishing scholar and teacher. She's a medievalist by training, but she's also recently completed a doctorate in psychoanalysis, and her interests range widely. A lot of her recent writing has involved the importance of the humanities in the face of trends working against them, especially in the arena of higher education (her book Staying Alive, published by Punctum). I have done some work on memory in the Middle Ages - though that isn't an arena I'm currently working on - and the work of Frances Yates (The Art of Memory) and Mary Carruthers (The Book of Memory) are foundational texts for scholars working on premodern periods, at least, that may be of interest. Ruth Evans has also done a lot of work in that area of medieval literary studies. One thing that may help your search for possible programs and/or scholars would be to further specify in terms of historical period(s), literature(s), culture(s). Are you interested in postmemory in, say, contemporary (however defined) American lit/culture? I agree re: the reply for Caruth's work on trauma as memory is in the mix of such research. I just mention historical or literary specificity since what area you want to study - if postmemory is the lens, let's say - will likely help narrow programs that may be of interest. A Renaissance scholar who does memory studies may be able to help with methodology, for example, but if your area is 21st century fiction, you'll want a department with people who specialize in that, too. Exciting stuff!

Since the crickets on this post make me want to wail weylaway, I'm adding my voice to the choir even though I'm a medievalist already enrolled at a PhD program. (UT-Austin, in my case; and, for what it's worth for prospective medievalist PhD applicants, I'm a poet who got an MFA before applying to PhD programs). There are / have been quite a few medievalists around this forum, including some who interlope like me already in programs (looking at you, unræd!). Late Middle English -- 14th and 15th century poetries -- is my area of focus, too. I have long-standing interests in the cycle plays, devotional/visionary writings (Julian of Norwich and Margery Kempe in particular), vernacular theology more generally, and the cult of saints and lay devotional culture. My PhD application foregrounded the latter, but when I got to UT I rediscovered the glories of Chaucer and, to my surprise, have become more of a Chaucerian than I ever thought possible. The dissertation I'm working on now reflects this sea change and, also to my surprise, combines a variety of these interests, which I guess is a testament to the fact that interests and passions grow and assemble in unexpected ways over time. Hopefully, some other medievalist applicants and/or currently attending students will chime in, too -- but I'd be happy to correspond further with medievalist applicants and/or prospective UT-Austin students.

There's also the MFA program at the University of Texas-Rio Grande Valley, where courses in writing in English, Spanish, and everything between are taught.

To follow up on what Ramus says, you could contextualize the stakes of your philological/historicist work on Shakespeare's sonnets within larger fields that contain them, which could include: Most broadly, Renaissance poetry - including genres/modes other than the sonnet and/or lyric like the epic (enter Spenser, Milton, and if you chose to look backward, Chaucer's Troilus and Criseyde) or, for lack of a better term, narrative poems (what happens if you translate your methods to the Rape of Lucrece or Venus and Adonis?); Or, collapsing the sonnet within the larger genre of the lyric - such a historical sweep could look at what happens with the lyric in the Renaissance (Spenser, Wyatt, Donne, Herbert, Milton, etc) or could look backward, again, to where the medieval and early modern blur in the 15th and early 16th -- so that it's not constrained by sonnets only (but certainly can incorporate them); Or, again within the Renaissance, the poetic sequence, which includes the sonnet sequences (Shakespeare, Spenser's Amoretti, Sidney's Astrophil and Stella) but also other kinds like Herbert's Temple and Spenser's Shepherd's Calendar; All of which is to say that you could focus on the history of a genre, the history of a poetic mode -- and/or then decide how you want to bookend it and where. Do you see yourself looking forward toward the 18th century, for example, or perhaps backward toward the Middle Ages? These are just examples of how you can fold a historicist philology of the sonnet form into larger critical conversations. I agree that methodology is important, but as that's a toolkit that travels wherever you choose to take it, I'd contend giving an equally concrete outline of the field(s) you imagine yourself inhabiting -- Renaissance poetry, or a scholar of the lyric, etc -- even if it all ends up being fictive in the end.

Also, if you haven't investigated UC Santa Barbara -- where Aranye Fradenburg teaches and heads a concentration called Literature and the Mind -- or UC Irvine, where Julia Reinhard Lupton teaches, those might be worth a look. Fradenburg is a powerhouse of a medievalist -- & a trained psychoanalyst, too. Lupton specializes in the Renaissance.

I will be there, giving a paper on Chaucer. Cheers!

Agreed. Unless you have the financial resources to foot the bill for an MA that doesn't fund you, it makes little sense to go into into debt for an MA (or further into) if you intend to pursue a PhD afterward. And, as far as I've been able to discern, "rankings" for MA programs don't exist as such in the way that they do for PhD programs in literary studies. And completing an MA at a regional university - that does or doesn't offer a PhD - doesn't necessarily mean that one's chances of getting into a a highly ranked PhD program. The regional university where I completed my MFA, for example, offers an MA in English with Lit or Rhet/Comp emphases. It also provides funding (at least partial, if not potentially more) for those who seek it, provides teaching exp in classroom and writing center settings, and provides tuition wavers and/or in-stare tuition rates for those who aren't residents. The school is more well-known for the MFA program than the MA, but has had a success in placing students in PhD programs recently. One classmate of mine is now pursuing a PhD at UC-Irvine; another is doing the same at the University of Wisconsin at Madison. I am UT-Austin. We all applied to programs during the same cycle.

Coleman Hutchison is the Graduate Advisor as of the Spring semester; previously, Wayne Lesser served as the GA. I'm also a student currently reading for my field exam & happy to field questions. Cheers!