Does a Writer Need an MFA?

No. But here’s why you may want to get one anyway.

First, the case against the MFA:

No one needs an MFA to write. Having those letters after your name won’t make it easier to publish in most cases. If you want to write so you can make a lot of money — bless your heart — I can almost guarantee an MFA will be a waste of time.

MFA programs don’t teach you how to write. The only way to learn to write is write. Keep writing. Write a lot. (And read. Specifically, read good writing.) If you aren’t a pretty good writer already, you won’t be accepted into an MFA program.

Earning an MFA is hard work. It’s grad school, just like a master’s program in any other field. You’ll be expected to read about a dozen books and write at least a hundred pages (sometimes several hundred) every semester. You’ll write a book (your thesis), then rewrite, revise, and edit that book. You’ll probably teach undergrad classes for a semester or two. Some programs will let you go part-time and spread the work out over several years, but every single course is going to challenge you.

MFA programs aren’t cheap. Tuition averages around $20K/year and can be up to twice that, plus you’ll have your living costs. Many programs offer financial aid, and most provide some opportunities (e.g. teaching stipends) to earn some portion of your tuition and other expenses. Programs with large endowments may offer full rides to all their students, but the competition for places in those programs is fierce.

Getting accepted into an MFA program is anything but automatic. Many of the better programs accept fewer than 10% of their applicants. You may have a lot of talent, but so do nearly all the tens of thousands of other applicants for the limited number of places in about 200 in-person and low-residency programs.

That last point kinda makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Why are so many talented (and sometimes quite accomplished) writers so keen on going back to school? If it isn’t going to get you published or set you on the path to a lucrative career, why go to all the trouble and expense?

Reason #1: You want to be a better writer.

You see, there’s this thing called craft. Craft refers to skills and tools and concepts that help you write more effectively. Craft shows in a story, poem, play, or essay that draws a reader in, holds their attention, and lingers in their consciousness long after they have put it down.

Craft is word choice, sentence structure, plot arc, character development, point of view, and pacing. Craft is cadence, lyricism, figuration, tone, and voice. Craft informs the writer where a story should begin, when the stranger needs to step onto the stage, and how to give a poem the tonal shift that makes a reader shiver, thinking: “Oh my god, we aren’t in Kansas anymore.”

You’ll be learning craft as long as you keep writing. A good MFA program helps you learn it faster, first, because you’re learning from accomplished writers, and second, because you’ll learn how to recognize elements of craft in everything you read. You won’t just say, “Gee, that was a good book;” you’ll be able to see what the writer did to make it good, and how you might do something similar in your own writing.

Reason #2: You want to be a better writer.

A good writer needs much more than craft and inspiration. Writing is a discipline. It is hard and often lonely work. You need to learn a set of attitudes, routines, and habits that will let you push through the inevitable periods of frustration, self-doubt, and lack of inspiration. And even if you’ve written to great critical acclaim before, you never know if your next book is going to find a publisher. Full-time writing is a constant uphill climb, and you’ll want to spend some time with people who have wandered in those hills before.

The book you just “finished” after two years’ work is not done; you’ve only done the first draft. Next week or the week after that, you will read it over to begin planning the first round of revisions, which may take another year.

(Note: Your mileage may vary. Some experienced writers can crank out and revise a novel in a year or less. And some writers self-publish their first drafts with no revisions, which is one reason self-publishing has gotten such a bad name.)

Because the writing life is what it is, you are going to need the practical and emotional support of a community. Your MFA program — the professors, classmates, and other friends you will make in the process of earning your degree — is likely to be at the heart of that community for years to come.

Reason #3: You want to be a better writer.

Being a good writer means more than just writing better, especially if you intend for writing to be a major part of what you do with your life. You need to know how the publishing industry works, what editors do, when and how to find an agent. You need to know why literary magazines exist and why you should support them. You need to know how to determine who you’re writing for and how to reach those readers.

You need to know your options in the writing world, the many ways that you can use your talents to earn a living.

And you need to think about where you fit in as a literary citizen, not just speaking to your readers but supporting other writers. Writers matter. We can make a difference in the world by showing readers newer ways to think about their own lives.

Reason #4: You may want to teach writing.

To teach at the college level, you need a graduate degree. An MFA in Creative Writing is your union card, qualifying you to apply for faculty or adjunct positions at most colleges and universities. Instructors are nearly always in demand for freshman composition classes, but you will be eligible to teach other classes at any college with a Creative Writing department. It’s hard work — and poorly paid if you’re an adjunct — but potentially rewarding, as you have a chance to make a difference in a lot of students’ lives.

Teaching may not figure in your plans, but if it does, this is where to get the preparation you will need. And you may surprise yourself by liking it.

Reason #5: You may want to work in the publishing industry.

Strictly speaking, a degree is not required for any position in publishing. Many presses hire (and sometimes pay) interns with minimal experience if they can demonstrate the necessary skills. But if you want to be an agent or an editor, the MFA will offer you some instant credibility, at least enough to get an interview, by showing you have some familiarity with the literary landscape and aren’t a stranger to hard work.

Who knows? You may decide at some point that you want to put out your own zine, or even start a press that publishes the talented young novelists and poets no one else has noticed yet. The skillset and the contacts you have gained in the process of earning your degree won’t guarantee success, but they’ll help you figure where to start.

So those are my top 5 reasons, even though the last two won’t apply to every writer.

I was 65 when I decided to go back to school. I’m two years into a three-year program, working harder than I’ve worked in years, and loving it. I came for reasons 1–4, and because I love the challenge of doing hard things.

(As for #5, I don’t think I’ll choose that path. But after a semester as poetry editor for Arkana, our program’s online litmag, I have nothing but respect for those who work within that underappreciated and essential industry.)

If you love to write, and if your desire to be a better writer urges you to take this path, be persistent. I didn’t get in on my first try, but I’m glad, because it was after that first round of applications that I discovered the place that offered the most of what I was looking for.

My next article will address some of the factors that distinguish one MFA program from another.