Review Articlel

 Name : Charissa Zefanya

Nim : 210511100049

REVIEW ARTICLE

Stephanie Vanderslice, she has contributed to one of the most essential genres of an academic discipline, the deciding-on-a-major guide. She recall, as a freshman, reading one such book titled something like, «Do You Want to Major in Psychology?» and the answer, it turned out, was no. The differences between creative writing and other majors mean that this book is more than just about how to carve a path to employment. The result is a book that redefines «success» in terms not limited to employability , instead emphasizing skills and habits that the community most hopes to inculcate in novice writers.

The authors must think broadly because, in part, the job prospects for students who study creative writing very rarely consist of just creative writing, a fact that Vanderslice mentions on page one of chapter one, claiming that «only 0.05 percent of writers» sustain themselves by creative writing alone. At the end of the chapter, she tells «Success Stories» of graduates, none of whom support themselves solely by writing. Trent Hergenrader’s chapter provides advice for the prospective student, most notably that, because of the statistically small chance that a student will become a professional writer, engaging on a course of creative writing is actually «a very low stakes endeavor» that should be pursued with equal parts experiment and enjoyment. It’s very freeing to begin from the premise that creative employment is out of the picture, so study can be engaged for its own sake.

Some part of the handbook unlike similar handbooks for psychology or chemical engineering majors, the future described for the creative writing major is holistic, taking in the full lifestyle and not just the working hours of the graduate. The reality that very few people support themselves on their writing doesn’t mean that the graduate is destined for unemployment. Anna Leahy believes that the skills a thoughtful creative writing major develops «might lead to and be used for a paying job» . Donna Steiner discusses a different kind of involvement in the literary world, what Cathy Day calls «literary citizenship.» One of my favorite chapters for early-career creative writers, Steiner’s chapter emphasizes the twin virtues of «reciprocity and usefulness» for creating vibrant literary communities.

Students who have devoted years of their lives to the literary community may be underwhelmed by the suggestion that they can support the arts by buying five books a year or subscribing to a literary journal , but nationwide there are few people who do so, even among those who have come up through our creative writing programs. Furthermore, as Steiner points out, «Being a literary citizen is a lifelong endeavor. It is also a creative one» and to that end needs the persistence of a novelist, the attention to detail of a poet, and the societal awareness of an essayist. Engaging in literary communities will help former students see their training as significant and useful, both to those in the writing community and beyond.

Some students, though not all, will find themselves back in the classroom as instructors of creative writing. Some of these students begin teaching while they are still attending school. Her chapter gives concrete examples of how to grade creative writing, including a full sample rubric for grading haiku. Joseph Rein quashes any false euphoria about teaching or taking a creative writing class online by gravely declaring «a course online will be a good deal more work than you’re expecting» and continuing to give tips uniquely situated to an online course, and an online creative writing course at that.

These chapters on pedagogy do a good deal to dispel the ghosts of the «unteachable art» that students may still hang onto, especially if they’re very invested in the concept of talent. They are chapters like swinging doors, applicable to students who teach or want to teach, as well as to students who are surprised at the grading standards they find themselves subject to. If students do find themselves working in higher education or as professional writers, they may also be required to write more than just their own creative works. To address the need to meta-cognitively describe one’s own writing process, many creative writing programs require critical and reflective writing about the student’s creative work.

Dianne Donnelly’s chapter on writing critical and reflective pieces can aid the increasing number of students whose programs encourage a scholarly preface to their final projects. She admits that many students may «see a critical and reflective study as less exciting and as holding less weight than the product of creative work,» but insists that such scholarly introspection is «a critical part of understanding» both process and position in the larger field of creative writing . The price is not prohibitive to making the book requisite for new creative writing students, and the advice may well prove priceless.