A.-less,” says Junot Díaz, a Pulitzer Prize-winning author and M. A.-holder who has been a vocal critic of the degree.
They recommend that English learners use concept maps – images that show how ideas are connected. A graduate writing degree, unsurprisingly, turns out a lot of opinionated writing. in Creative Writing (and Two Reasons It Might Actually Be Worth It).” In scholarly circles, the boom and its implications have been a subject of heated debate since at least 2009, with the publication of Mark Mc Gurl’s “The Program Era: Postwar Fiction and the Rise of Creative Writing.” In it, Dr. as the single biggest influence on American literature since World War II, noting that most serious writers since then have come out of graduate-school incubators. Between 3,000 and 4,000 students a year graduate with the degree; this year, about 20,000 applications were sent out. Last year, he edited a book of essays, with the same title, on the credential’s influence. Harbach describes two centers of American fiction: New York City, the traditional hub, and M. A., the encroaching university writing program, or “the M. “It is a deadly question,” says the literary critic Anis Shivani, author of the 2011 book “Against the Workshop: Provocations, Polemics, Controversies.” “Everyone who wants to be a writer in this country has to confront it, even if you rebel against the M. And your writing will change, he says, and not necessarily for the better. Shivani say the degree is responsible for so-called program fiction — homogenized, over-worskshopped writing void of literary tradition and overly influenced by the mostly upper- and middle-class values and experiences of its students. “If you do the degree, opportunities open up.” Without it, he warns, you may be able to publish in small presses but are more likely to be “condemned to obscurity,” particularly if you write literary fiction and poetry. Mc Garry says, are less developed writers; faculty “are doing more of the work of writing” for them. Hopkins is known to be cerebral; Brown, experimental; Boston University, at one year, intense; University of Arkansas, at four years, academic. to work as an organizer of literary open-mike events. It’s no longer the genius coming out of the ground fully fledged.”•Every program has its own character. tells us about our era’s myths, she says, is that “the arts are more inculcated than they were before. Lands, a professor at the University of Tennessee Graduate School of Medicine in Knoxville. It was peak reading season, and Lan Samantha Chang, director of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, was gamely juggling a call from a reporter, interruptions from her 7-year-old as well as a 10 percent surge in applications to the University of Iowa’s Master of Fine Arts program in creative writing. Chang was in the thick of decisions about who would fill 50 spots evenly divided between the fall fiction and poetry workshops.“I’m deluged,” she said, surprised by the number of applications she was sorting through — 1,380 — especially in a year with a stronger economy, a condition that typically causes graduate school applications, never mind those to fine arts programs, to drop. More likely, the swell in applications is not so weird.“Explosive” is the word routinely used to describe the growth of M. ”Perhaps, she speculates, the surge is a result of the juggernaut HBO series called “Girls,” the one where the neurotic aspiring novelist Hannah Horvath, played by Lena Dunham, takes off to the Iowa cornfields and shines a bright light on the venerated program. Sample manifestoes from blogs and chat rooms: “Why you should hate the creative writing establishment (…as if you needed any more reasons)” and “14 Reasons (Not) to Get an M. Mc Gurl, a Stanford English professor, describes the M.