Let the record show that I, Michel Bigelow, after completing
an entire semester, have not yet failed out of graduate school. I made it from August to December without
once being asked to leave the University.
In fact, I am being permitted to come back next semester and continue my
studies. So, in the most basic sense of
avoiding abject failure, this semester has been a rousing success.
In terms of
making me a stronger and more prolific writer, this semester has been better
than I ever could have imagined. I have
read things I would never have otherwise read and I have written things I
absolutely could not have written six months ago. On top of all that, I have been accepted into
one of the most delightful collections artists and weirdos one could ever hope
to meet. The Roosevelt University
Creative Writing MFA program is filled with immensely talented people of wildly
diverse backgrounds and styles. I
predict that out of the current students in the program there are fifteen
future Pulitzer Prize winners, twelve future National Book Award Winners, nine
future Nobel Prize winners, eight future recipients of movie deals, and three
to five future cyborgs. I have similar
predictions about the amazing faculty, except I only foresee two of them
becoming part machine.
Coming to
Chicago to pursue a master’s in creative writing is easily the biggest risk I
have ever taken. Elizabeth and I gave up
full-time jobs, financial security, and close proximity to friends and family so
I could formally study writing down shit that I make up. That is insane, yet even after only a
semester, I know it was a good decision.
Fall 2013 has been one of the most satisfying learning experiences of my
life.
There have
definitely been struggles with things like employment and figuring out which of
the eighty-three Thai places within walking distance of our apartment is best
(so far none are on the level of Thai Bistro), but overall, I have loved our
time in Chicago and my time at Roosevelt.
I am genuinely excited to come back next semester.
All that
being said, Houston, I am coming for your fajitas. All of them.
Chicago is wonderful, but it’s not really a TexMex town.
Fajitas.
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