During my whole first year of graduate school, I was convinced that I was in the wrong program.  I was in Literature and I felt like I belonged in Creative Writing.  However, I’d been rejected by both Creative Writing programs I’d applied to (in Oregon and Colorado), so didn’t have much hope about repeating my application.  But, I knew that I was a writer first, not a teacher or a theorist, but a writer.  

I spent my second year of graduate school drifting.  I couldn’t figure out what I was supposed to do.  I’d started out thinking I’d be a teacher, but I’d quit that, and that I’d eventually transfer to the fiction program, but a serious crisis of confidence had left me uncertain of where to go next.

© Salahub 2003