#7 Passion and Consequences
Hello and welcome to the latest installment of Notes From Table 30, my mostly weekly newsletter where I talk about….well, whatever I want to talk about. I’m Jack Cameron, writer, MFA candidate, and grumpy word wizard.
I’m in between semesters at Goddard College at the moment and I just got my term evaluation back from my adviser. It was all very positive. My favorite thing she said was, “This guy can write.”
December is upon us. The last month in what has been a strange and terrible year. My birthday is later this week. I almost decided not to have a party this year though I love my birthday. In some ways, it simply hasn’t felt like a year worth celebrating.
From a creative and academic standpoint things have gone extraordinarily well for me. It’s taken a lot of time and a lot of work, but I have accomplished more this year creatively than any other year in my life.
But it has come at significant personal cost. And to be clear, I’m not sharing this for the sake of pity or charity. It’s simply what’s on my mind and for my own documentation of what I’ve gone through. Also there’s the chance that some of you may learn from it.
I’m writing this on my girlfriend’s computer. I’ve been staying here quite a bit. I’ve also been staying at my mother’s house. This is because I lost my apartment at the end of September. Right now 95% of everything I own is in a storage unit I can’t really afford. I went to the first movie I’ve been to since August this week because my Dad bought the tickets. The day before Thanksgiving I was looking forward to the holiday because it meant I could eat a bunch of food and have leftovers because I had run out of food that wasn’t given to me.
I know it’s customary to present a front online that pretends money troubles do not exist. Everyone online is happy. Their bank accounts are as full as their stomachs. No one is struggling and none of us can remember the last time we’ve been sick or been in genuine need. But in a year where everyone is lying, I think it’s worthwhile to tell the truth.
These past few months have also taken a toll on my social life. I missed the 25th wedding anniversary party of two of my oldest friends. I missed another friend’s mother’s funeral. I’ve missed gatherings and invitations for drinks, games, and parties. I haven’t seen some of my closest friends in months.
Don’t get me wrong. I may be both broke and technically homeless, but I’m under no illusions that I have it worse than most people. I have an incredible network of friends and relatives that have kept me from starving or living in my car. I have a few job prospects that may yet pan out. I have no genuine fear that I’m going to end up on the street. I am extraordinarily lucky, but at the moment I’m far from whole.
It would be both convenient and comforting if I could blame the economy or any other person or thing for my current circumstances. And to be sure, there are social and economic factors at play. But, ultimately my situation exists because of the choices I made.
I decided that going to grad school and following my creative passion was worth sacrificing my home and my financial stability. I decided it was worth it to dedicate my time to this endeavor and hope that the gamble would pay off. If I wake up in someone else’s home and wonder why I don’t have one of my own, I have no one to blame but that bastard in the mirror.
But here’s what I know. I would not have been physically able to do this program AND work a full-time job. I would not have had the time to do the research for my thesis. I would not have had the time and energy to write nearly 200 pages or read nearly 5,000 pages. (See some of the books I read below.) I simply could not have done it. I could only accomplish what I’ve accomplished by total dedication. And so I live with the consequences of that dedication.
I have also listened to well-meaning friends and relatives tell me how all I need to do is ‘get a job’. They often say this as if it is both the most obvious thing in the world and a concept I haven’t thought of. Few of the people who said this have masters degrees. None of them know how much it has taken to stay on top of my college work. And none of them understand what that work means to me.
Other friends have been lost. Some stopped inviting me to things. Others stopped talking to me altogether. With no job, no money, and no home I imagine I seem like more of a cautionary tale than a friend. And more often than not this year I have not been able to pay my own way. In my more resentful moments I would think that perhaps I made them feel embarrassed that they cashed in their dreams in exchange for comfort. But the truth is I can’t pretend to know what is in their heads or hearts. I know that their absence hurts and I know that I can’t entirely blame them.
Incidentally since I am between semesters at the moment, getting a job is exactly what I’m looking to do. My resume is being sent to dozens of employers. I have head hunting agencies looking for positions for me. I am optimistic that I will find an opportunity that is the right fit for me. (By the way, if you happen to know of a content or technical writing gig, let me know and I’ll shoot you my resume.)
So, why did I put myself (and let’s face it, those who care about me) through all this? Why sacrifice my home, my finances, social obligations, and friends to get a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing? What’s that really do for me? For starters it has given me more and better friends than I have lost. It has given me a true sense of belonging. It has given me the space and time to creatively grow. It has made me a better writer and I might even argue it has made me a better person. And of course, it gets me one step closer to being a college professor who can teach creative writing. Yes, things are hard right now. And I suppose there are decisions I could have made differently that might have made things easier, but I don’t know that they would have made them better.
And the college work isn’t all I’m doing in the creative arena. As mentioned last issue, I have an article appearing in the December issue of Grit City Magazine and there is a short piece of fiction in the latest edition to the Pitkin Review. I am also looking for representation for my novel, A Better Lie. One thing I learned from being released from my publishing contract is that such a turn of events wouldn’t have happened if I had had an agent.
As I finish my 45th year on this planet, in some ways I have lost everything, but in other, far more important ways I am exactly where I need to be. I’m no longer struggling against a current I’ve felt since grade school. I’m on the Writer’s Path and it is not a path devoid of adversity. Things are hard right now, true. But I’ve never been more ready for what life has to throw at me.
One last thing I’d like to mention is how much I appreciate each of you. If you’re reading this, you’re my people.
Back to regularly scheduled programming next week.
Thanks for sticking with me. Thanks for reading. I promise that things get better from here.
- Jack