This is the first line of Alice Kim’s mind-blowingly baller story, “Mothers, Lock Up Your Daughters Because They Are Terrifying,” in the new issue of Tin House. I am somewhere in the chasm between terrified and in-love.
At midnight we parked by a Staples and tried some seriously dark fucking magic.
Hug Your Boss Day
- the Writing Center Director
- my Advising Director in my teaching program at school
- (wait those two are the same person)
- every editor I’ve ever had
- most editors, except for some of them
- the Program Coordinator at the community center downtown
- the Dean and Chair of the Preprofessional Advising Committee
- the coordinator for the grant-writing consulting stuff that’s coming up again
- the barista at the cafe where I write
- my cats
- everyone who listens to The Catapult?
- It’s probably a good thing I’m not seeing most of those people today
- get off the internet, Jaime, and write.
This is the inside joke of creative writing programs in America. We know creative writing doesn’t make money, and yet we continue to graduate talented writers with no business acumen. At best, it is misguided. At worst, it is fraudulent.
I loved my MFA program, but I had to scrabble and scrape to get what few ounces of industry savvy I left with. This is a problem.