Yesterday I got my last response letter from my advisor this semester. He briefly told me that my critical work was good and that he was pleased with what I was learning and that I was in good shape for next semester, then spent 3 pages (of about 4) telling me what’s wrong with my creative work. I know I’m here to learn and the more I know what’s wrong with my work the more I can improve and I want to be a great writer and I know I have a long way to go, but it’s still a lot to take in. He made lots of suggestions and tried to explain how to look at things to improve my issues, but my brain can’t absorb it all and rather than taking the criticism as a point for improvement, I just come out feeling like the crappiest writer in the world. My head hurts trying to wrap my brain around how to apply it all.
The semester is over. My final packet will arrive in the mail soon with the rest of the comments from my advisor, but I don’t have anymore deadlines or any required work, reading or writing, until the new semester starts at the end of June. I’ve narrowed down my thesis to two options and both draw me for different reasons. My advisor says I can go into the next semester with both stories, but I’ll need to pick one very quickly. I tentatively plan to spend my “summer vacation” working on the two to see where they go, but both are very blocked and knowing all my work is crap doesn’t exactly put me in the mood to write more of it.
As frustrating and mentally and emotionally draining as the whole process is, I just can’t think of anything more worth doing. It’s taken me a very long time to come into this, to both realize and decide that I wanted to be a writer, and every time I hit a point like this, a point when I just don’t know how to go on, I look for other options, other things I want to do with my life, and this is it. There just isn’t anything else I’d rather be doing. Every path is hard; every choice brings suffering of some sort. There isn’t anything else worth suffering through. This is what I want to do with my life; this is what matters to me. It’s hard, so very hard, on every level imaginable, but I have to put my effort into something and this is what I choose. The decision is made. I’m here, and this is what I want. There’s nothing left to do but just keep writing.