Scheherazade

Thanks! This is great advice. Good luck to you as well! I agree with many of your sentiments about Columbia, but I'd argue it still has a solid reputation in the literary world. True, because of its funding situation, many people who have gone through the MFA admissions process recently have a low opinion of the program. But they constitute a small portion of the "literary world." Most people who work at publishing companies or who are hiring writing instructors are not aware that Columbia has a higher acceptance rate and worse funding than, say, Boise State. And I doubt that even people more familiar with the intricacies of the MFA landscape, like literary journal editors, would discriminate against Columbia graduates; the quality of their work is more important. Most resources that I read on MFA programs (like The Atlantic article on MFA programs and the 2008 edition of the Creative Writing MFA Handbook) call Columbia a "top" program, and as long as it continues to produce successful graduates and attract world-class faculty, it will likely remain so. "Top" in this context is about perception, and does not equate to "best." And I would argue that finding the best program for you is more important than finding the most prestigious one. That said, I did not apply to Columbia, nor would I go even if given the highest funding package. As I've started before, I don't find anything inherently wrong with paying for an MFA degree (depending on your circumstances), but I would not want to go to a program that charges the majority of its students an unjustifiably high tuition rate. I've heard that there are tensions between the tiny portion of students who get fellowships and the rest of the cohort, who receive little to no funding. That would be a deal-breaker for me. I would also not recommend going into six figures of debt for a degree that you are unlikely to monetize in any meaningful sense. Fiction, like many of the arts, suffers from what economists call the Superstar Effect: there's a large disparity between what a handful of prominent figures at the high end earn and what most writers make. Even many successful writers aren't exactly making a killing, so six figures of debt could take a long to pay off on a writer's salary. And if your end goal is to publish a book, there are many ways to do so that are less risky. Of course, this is just my own opinion. I tend to be cautious about taking risks, and paying the ticket price (or close to it) for Columbia is a risk that I would not be willing to take. For you, it may be worth the gamble.

In an unexpected twist, I received an official waitlist email from Boston University. Looks like it's not a secret waitlist after all. I had written off my chances weeks ago when word of their acceptances went out. I'm elated but also not sure if I should get my hopes up. It's an odd feeling to be thrust back into the turmoil of MFA admissions two weeks after deciding to move on from it. For now, I plan on adopting the mindset that I won't get off the waitlist but will pleasantly surprised if I do. For others who have been waitlisted, how have you approached this? Have you reached out to programs affirming your interest? Would there be any benefit in sending additional materials? BU required only two reference letters (but allowed for a third) and recommended (but did not require) the GRE. Since it was my last application, I had already exceeded my application budget, so I did not send my official scores, though I provided unofficial scores. I also submitted only two letters because I didn't want to keep bothering my letter writers. Furthermore, I assumed that my writing sample and SOP would count for 90% of my application, so these minor aspects would have only marginal benefits. In hindsight, I wish I had included these materials, as they were strong, meaning they could have only helped me. They wouldn't have gotten me to the top of the applicant pool, but perhaps they could have given me an edge. Hard to know at this point, though, and I'm guessing there's little use in sending them now. And for all I know, all the applicants who've received offers will accept their spots.

The email came from Catherine and was sent out en masse; my portal remains unchanged since I submitted my application. Five or so people reported rejections on the GC admissions results page, but it seems like they received verbal rejections from the department after calling or emailing them (rather than getting an official rejection via a form letter or portal check). Her email said that BU's "application system takes a while to send out individual notices," which I took to mean that they are in the process of sending out rejections. Also, a Grad Cafe post from last year says that "all notifications have to be 'approved' by Admissions, causing [a] delay after CW office has sent them," so their late notifications are probably a function of their system rather than the department itself. (BTW, given their late application deadline, high page count limit for the writing sample, and large volume of applications, their response time doesn't strike me as egregious. Some other places, though...) Anyway, I assume a rejection is forthcoming if you have not been notified yet, but I'm not 100% sure. To be honest, I'm not quite not sure if the email I received was just a nicer way of saying they liked my application but were planning on rejecting me soon, or if there is still a slim possibility of being accepted. It said that I could contact fiction faculty members directly if I needed to know my place on the list right away, but it also implied that they were getting inundated with calls/emails, so I'd rather not pester them. Other pertinent info: out of more than 500 applicants, they sent ten offers, half of whom have accepted.

Did any one else get the "you-weren't-accepted-but-were-among-our-top-applicants" email from Boston University? To follow up on @aridari's previous post, I did get the impression that they have a secret waitlist of sorts, and they said they're sending out further information next week. Even though the email was essentially a rejection, it was an encouraging end (or near-end) to a season filled with nothing but flat-out rejections. BU has my favorite faculty and was one of my top choices, so it was reassuring to know that they saw something promising in my work, even if I wasn't in the top 2% of applicants. I wish more schools would send out tiered rejections. Given the large applicant pools for so few spots, a rejection could signify anything from not quite making the cut to being a total hack. And when you get so many of them, it's hard not to assume the worst. The nine other rejections I received came in the following forms: 1. 2 schools sent warm form letters from members of their creative writing departments. These letters included information about how many applicants they received. Incidentally, both programs' acceptance rates were historically higher than those of the programs to which I applied. I thus appreciated knowing that their acceptance rates were in the low-single digits, which helped me conceptualize just how competitive fiction MFA admissions are. 2. 5 schools sent me form letters from the graduate department. 1 sent the letter directly to my inbox, while the other four sent me emails to check my status/find my decision letter on their portals.. All but 1 status check email triggered my spam filter, so I only found out after seeing other acceptances on GC. In one case, the actual status check email came several days after I had already found out my status by logging into the portal. These letters were almost indistinguishable: "Your application received careful consideration. Admissions to Lorem Ipsum University are very competitive, and we regret to inform you that we cannot offer you a spot." 3. 2 schools rejected me through their portals without sending any sort of email, snail mail, messenger pigeon, et cetera. Nor did they bother to include a form letter with the rejection. Even more frustrating, rejections trickled out, so I only found closure through a dread-inducing process of logging in every day (or every hour) after the first reported rejection on Grad Cafe. And I'm still waiting on one notification (for an application due three months ago). I gained more respect for the schools in category 1. In a process that often lacks transparency, I appreciated their information about the applicant pool. Their letters, though generic, were also empathetic, which portrayed these programs as warm and caring. As someone who values these attributes in a program, I will likely apply again. The rejections in category 2 were what I expected. Most of them came reasonably soon after their acceptance notifications, so at least I wasn't in limbo for too long. As for the final category... ugh. Is it that hard to notify applicants who have spent considerable amounts of time and money on your application?

Although I'm still waiting on two notifications, all the programs to which I applied have finished notifying fiction acceptances. Both of these programs historically notify rejections in April, so it might be a few weeks before I get my official rejections. But for the sake of my sanity, I'm closing the book on this application season. I'm not going to lie: these rejections hurt. It took me years to muster the courage to pursue my dreams, and each rejection eroded my hope that I would ever realize these dreams. After putting hundreds of hours into work that seemed to amount to nothing, I felt like a failure. But these rejections are only a comment on my application, not a referendum on my talent, worth, or dedication as a writer. Although some things were wasted, like the money I spent on application fees and the time I spent filling out application forms, these are minor expenditures in the long run. Working on my writing sample and personal statement, despite not getting me into graduate school, helped me hone my skills and define my goals. It's also important to remember that the MFA is only one way, and not necessarily the best way, to achieve success as a writer. A few weeks ago, when I realized my slim chances of admission, I started pursuing other avenues. Earlier this week, after receiving my ninth rejection, I found out that I was a finalist for a life-changing journalism opportunity that I thought I had no chance at. So don't lose hope: you may not have gotten your break yet, but that doesn't mean you never will. Keep hoping. Keep trying. And keep writing.

@romola, I'm late to this discussion, but one thing I would recommend is putting together a sort of simplified cost-benefit analysis. Essentially, you're weighing the pros and cons for each option: 1. List your various options. From the sounds of it, this would be something like: a.) paying to go to a low-res program, b.) paying to go to a full-res program, c.) applying again to fully funded programs [I know you said you don't plan on this, but it's useful to consider as an alternative for the sake of this exercise], and d.) pursuing writing through other outlets. The final option is the most open-ended and perhaps the most unpredictable; you might consider, for instance, taking workshops through extension programs or at a local college as a non-matriculated student. Or, you might trying to get a job in writing or publishing. But that might not be feasible. I did this exercise recently with the help of my partner, who, bless his heart, suggested "get a job with the New Yorker." Might as well list "get into Michener, Vanderbilt, and Cornell" as one of my options. 2. Look at the costs and benefits of each. There are some costs that are straightforward, like tuition and moving costs, but you will also have more complicated measures like opportunity cost if a scenario requires you to quit your job. Opportunity cost takes into consideration not only lost income but also the repercussions of time outside of the job market, lost interest on your income, and lost benefits. For both costs and benefits, you might want to break programs down individually. 3. Consider your return on investment. Since the MFA is not a professional degree, any option that ends with you getting an MFA will have virtually no financial ROI, or even a negative one. But there are intangible returns to consider, like self-fulfillment, industry contacts, etc. (Note, however, that you might achieve through means other than an MFA.) 4. Weigh these considerations against each other and pick a course of action. Depending on your particular situation, this exercise may reveal that the maxim of never paying for an MFA is not applicable to you. In my case, for instance, quitting my job to be a TA in the deep South with a stipend of $10,000 would be a worse decision than keeping my job and paying $30,000 for a low-res program. Also, it's okay if you aren't able to determine a course of action after weighing every option. I'm still trying to figure it out myself. This exercise is, however, useful for analyzing your different options.

I initially set out to respond to posts individually, but I would probably end up writing a novel (perhaps my sample for next year?). Others have brought up a lot of salient points, about which I had some general thoughts. Like most people, I'm not airing my grievances about the group to demonize it. Draft's intention is admirable: gathering candid information about a process that suffers from obfuscation. Likewise, I don't doubt the good intentions of most members, both vets and applicants alike. Its problems lie with its medium, and I'm sorry for getting all Marshall McLuhan on everyone, but it's impossible to separate the medium from the message. My issues with Draft are thus issues with social media writ large. Although I gleaned some helpful information in the beginning (and appreciated the clever memes posted by one member), as I spent more time in the group, I found that the loudest voices drowned out the others. And the loudest voices on social media tend to belong to heavy users who are thereby prone to its faults: humblebrags, over-shares, echo chambers, armchair activism. As someone who is reticent to broadcast the intimate details of my life to strangers (or even friends) on social media, I have little tolerance for these sorts of posts in my newsfeed. At the same time, I acknowledge that I'm a bit of a curmudgeon, and I understand that social media is addictive. In large part, the reason I avoid these behaviors is the reason many people engage in them: I don't want to crave the dopamine released when I post about an accomplishment or express my political views to my similarly progressive network. On the subject of community, it is natural for likeminded individuals involved in the same processes to gravitate towards similar ideas and habits. As a result, however, I suspect users are prone to groupthink and consequently fallacious reasoning. Here are a few examples I observed: 1. Appeals to authority ("I went to one program, so I can speak definitively about the hundreds of other programs.") 2. False dilemmas ("Either the process is completely random or objective. And because we know admissions officers aren't just throwing darts to select applicants, we can conclude that there is no chance involved.") 3. Slippery slopes ("If you pay anything for an MFA, you'll end up with a useless degree and oppressive amounts of debt that will haunt you for the rest of your life, and then you'll never be a successful writer.") 4. Faulty generalizations ("My friend got into five top programs with a horrible GPA and GRE scores, so you shouldn't worry about these aspects at all.") I'm simplifying these arguments to highlight their faults, but some of them are pretty close to actual posts. Again, these sorts of arguments tend to arise from good intentions, such as deterring applicants from taking on substantial debt or encouraging them to devote more attention to the writing sample than to other aspects of the application. But they lack nuance, and I usually encountered opposition or hostility when trying to point out the faults and gray areas of these sorts of posts. Ultimately, I realized the futility of all this and ended up leaving. This comic sums it up pretty well: I guess in the end I never felt like a part of the group, despite my best efforts to empathize and interact with other members. And it made me question whether the MFA community was right for me. Nevertheless, I'm trying to keep things in perspective by reminding myself that a few voices on a Facebook group are not indicative of all MFA students.

I got four rejections in the span of a few days last week, and you know what? I'm in a pretty good place about it. In part, I've steeled myself against these rejections, but I've been engaging in positive thinking as well. It also didn't hurt that I was on a business trip, and the company put me up in a wellness-oriented hotel with an ample gym and spa. I sometimes underestimate the power of self-care. Anyway, I'm sending good vibes to everyone else. I did, however, make the mistake of going on Draft today after a long absence. Facebook creates the perception that others' lives are orders of magnitude better than yours — people tend not to advertise their rejections on social media — and Draft is no exception. And although the atmosphere is generally welcoming, there's one member who, from what I gather, earned an MFA program years ago yet continues to return to Draft like the swallows to Capistrano for the sole purpose of posting hostile replies. But what I find more baffling than her dismissive attitude is the fact that almost everyone on Draft seems to agree with her (or at least doesn't call her out on her negativity and with black-and-white thinking). I think Draft suffers from a hive mind, which results in a lot of unproductive arguments (i.e., ganging up on those who express contrarian views). Not what I was hoping to gain out of the group. I feel much more comfortable in this forum!

This is my first application season. True, I could still hear some good news, but it seems so unlikely that I'm not holding out hope. Better to look forward and potentially get a pleasant surprise than to dwell on disappointment. I've heard plenty of inspirational stories about people applying several years in a row, so I haven't abandoned my MFA dreams yet. I think it's important to remember that a rejection isn't a referendum on your worth as a writer or person, though it sometimes feels like it is. Speaking of rejection, someone on the admissions results page mentioned accessing a (terse) rejection letter via the Johns Hopkins portal. But when I checked, my application is listed only as "submitted" with no link to a decision. I'd really prefer a swift notification; otherwise, it feels like being rejected multiple times. For the University of Maryland, for instance, I had long presumed my rejection before verifying it on the portal. And as if that wasn't enough, I got another rejection notification via email several days later. Why don't you dig in the knife in a little deeper, UMD? @Hortense, best of luck with your writing! I emphasize completely. After a long writing drought, I've started focusing on fiction again, which has been the best salve for this torturous season.

Yeah, the funding isn't great, and there are better-funded programs in the area (Hopkins and UMD). But I'd argue it's at least decent, in that they offer funding to a significant number of students. Their stipend is pretty low, but it's on par with a lot of other programs in expensive areas (Boston University and the University of Washington come to mind). And it's certainly better than the expensive programs that offer virtually zero funding (*insert private university in New York City here*). That said, I guess "not accumulating 100k in debt" is a pretty low bar to clear. Ideally you'd want a livable stipend, and it sounds like George Mason's teaching load is really heavy for what you get. I didn't realize how much teaching they required. Good point about the divide between funded and unfunded students. That was a big consideration for me; I applied mostly to places that fund all students equally or close to it. When I picked programs, I looked for ones that emphasized camaraderie over competition, and I feel like uneven funding inherently creates a hierarchy. By the way, regarding housing in the D.C. area, there are relatively affordable options out there, though you'd probably have to take a roommate or two. When I lived there a few years ago, I paid between $550 and $750 (the former being for an awful house in Maryland I shared with four strangers, the latter being for a nice one-bedroom in Capitol Hill I shared with my partner). I think my favorite living situations were when I shared row houses with a few friends; both times I paid around $600 + utilities. But I'm extroverted and need constant human interaction, so I like having roommates. Welp, I guess that's another program I can cross off my list. With one school left to notify, I'm already starting to work on my applications for 2018. I wish I had started earlier last year; even though I felt good about my SOP back in December, I've found all sorts of ways to make it better. Lesson learned: let drafts simmer before sending them out into the application abyss.

It's definitely not ridiculous. Many of my partners' classmates are straight out of undergraduate, and there's a definite divide in their level of experience and maturity. Heck, even though I'm not that far removed from my undergraduate days (I graduated seven years ago), I would find my twenty-two-year-old self insufferable. I also spoke to a friend's brother, who graduated from a top MFA program, and he did not have fond memories of the freshly minted college graduates in his workshops. That said, I think the average age of cohorts can vary considerably, with many students being in their late twenties or older. Incidentally, I own a Joan Didion shirt. In my daydreams, I imagine wearing it to the orientation of an MFA program, leading the entire cohort to deem me the coolest person in the world. Obviously. I'd actually have to disagree with this. An ugly commuter campus may factor into the undergraduate experience, but I don't think that should be one's main consideration for choosing an MFA program (otherwise, no one would go to Hunter College). For what it's worth, I've heard good things about George Mason's program; it's a well-regarded program with decent funding. I know a few alums who liked the program and have had successful careers following graduation. I've lived in Fairfax, and although I didn't love it, I would much rather live in the D.C. 'burbs than in many other MFA locations. But it comes down to personal preference. It is true, however, that your stipend won't stretch very far in the DMV.

@Sleam, I've also debated the low-res path. In fact, when I first started considering MFA programs last summer, I planned on going the low-res route. However, everyone I consulted advised me not to pay for an MFA, so I decided to apply to fully funded programs instead. I was also attracted to the advantages of a full-res program mentioned by @Hortense, such as the community, academic environment, and teaching experience. That said, you can still get plum teaching jobs with a low-res MFA; several of the creative writing professors at the top-tier liberal arts college I attended had degrees from Warren Wilson. I think having strong publications is a more important consideration. The low-res path has many attractive elements: - My partner cannot move with me, and most of the nearby programs are unfunded. - My work situation is pretty much ideal for doing a low-res program, as I have a well-paying freelance career working 20-30 hours a week. I don't love my work -- I am a little burnt out and was looking forward to having a few years to dedicate to writing -- but I do like it, it's in my field, and the schedule is flexible. - Having taken several writing workshops, I find I benefit more from one-on-one mentorship than from group workshops. - I currently have minimal expenses; I don't pay rent and share the costs of food and transportation with my partner. Relocating to a full-res program would thus be a substantial expense for me. That said, the health insurance provided by fully funded programs is appealing to me; as a freelancer, I'm worried about the ACA being repealed. Even though I don't receive a subsidy, I doubt I would be able to afford healthcare without the ACA. Before it was passed, I was denied insurance and necessary medication because I had a pre-existing condition. My condition? Asthma. I was an otherwise healthy twenty-three-year-old. - I already have relevant teaching experience and live in an academic community (my partner is a student), so these are lesser considerations for me. Thus, in many ways, the low-res option makes more financial sense than many full-res programs; even after paying tuition, I would still probably make more than the modest stipends provided by teaching assistantships. With these considerations in mind, I decided to apply mostly to programs that provided generous stipends, required lighter teaching loads, and had small cohorts (thereby allowing for more individual mentorship). Unfortunately, programs that meet these criteria also tend to be the most selective. Given my lack of success applying to full-res programs, I've been reconsidering low-res programs. The main drawback, at the moment, is that the application process has been so utterly defeating that I'm hesitant to begin it again.

Yeah, I'm pretty sure these solicitors are trying to drive me insane so that I'll break down and sign up for the credit card I've been pre-approved for or book the free cruise I won. By the way, is your username a reference to The History of Love? It's one of my favorites!

A different accepted student on Draft mentioned that she thinks they're notifying fellowship recipients first. That said, she is also international, so that could be the case as well. All but two of my schools have started sending out fiction acceptances, so I'm more or less considering my season finished. I'll be thrilled if by some miracle I get an acceptance or waitlist, but I'm not holding out hope. In hindsight, I realize I should've used more diverse stories in my sample; I sent in two that had a number of surface similarities. Numerous people told me that showcasing my best writing was more important than exhibiting range, so I used two recently published stories that tackled the same theme. Independently, I think the stories were strong, but read together, they might have portrayed me as someone who can only write one type of story. Knowing this, I'm confident that I can assemble a better sample for next year. It was heartbreaking to realize I wasn't going to an MFA in the fall, but I'm trying not to dwell on the disappointment.

With the exception of 800 numbers, every unknown number I've gotten a call from in the past month has been from an area where one of my MFA programs is located. Conclusion: the universe hates me. Re: the genre of the acceptance, it's listed as fiction. The poster mentioned getting a call from Deborah Landau; even though she's a poet, she may be calling everyone since she's the program director.