Paramount to me was to be in an academic environment to gain exposure to the classics of nonfiction, my genre. Secondly, I wanted to be among individuals who shared my passion for a good metaphor while also discussing the merits of memoirists such as M.F.K. Fisher and Mary Karr. Thirdly, I wanted to attend seminars conducted by agents and published writers. Lastly, it had to be a low-residency program due to family obligations. Fairfield University’s MFA program met all my requirements and expectations.

The main program criteria for me was class size: I really wanted workshops and craft seminars with a dozen students (or less). I hoped for a tight-knit community of writers, more supportive than competitive. Beyond the program itself, I only applied to schools in big cities outside the South. I figured literal distance from my roots would allow for some creative perspective. Not to mention a good reason to move to New York City or San Francisco.

I had always dreamed of living and writing in New York City, so when I started the application process, location was my only criteria. Very quickly, though, I realized that economics and community were extremely important too. I was genuinely shocked by the tuition fees at some of the well-known programs. I also knew that relocating to New York City from Melbourne, Australia (where I grew up and went to university), was going to be emotionally challenging, so a welcoming, supportive, intimate writing community was essential. Brooklyn College was the first program to accept me.

Research a large number of programs, but don’t limit yourself to a few schools. Cast a wide net and hope for the best, but be okay if you’re rejected from your top ten choices. Rejection comes with the territory. When I originally applied, I thought I’d go full-time. Instead I decided to forgo loans, pay my way, and pursue my degree at night, part-time. If part-time is your best option, while the degree may take longer, go for it. Balancing with work/life is pretty stressful, but the output is just as rewarding

I was looking for a program in New York that respected creative nonfiction; when I explored the various websites, I found The New School's presentation to be inviting and professional, but not so overwhelming as to make the program feel non-inclusive for a commuter student. At their late summer mixer, I got to speak with some former and current students about the specifics of the program. Selecting classes based on the instructor was a challenge at first, but relying on word-of-mouth—and sometimes just personal observation—usually helped me make the right choice.

This was my second time around applying to MFA programs. The first time I made funding a priority, and sent a slew of applications across the country, with little result. I revamped my writing sample and this time decided to focus on staying in New York. By considering low-residency programs, I could afford to maintain the life I love here in the city. I worried a low-residency program would lack the community of an on-campus program, but I’ve found it to be not true at all. There’s an outstanding camaraderie among the writers in my program, faculty and students alike.

In deciding upon an MFA program, it was important that I be able to take electives outside of writing, so that exploring my other interests would be possible. After entering my program, however, I realized that there were other factors important to me that I could not have estimated beforehand such as a large program, large faculty, and, particular to Sarah Lawrence, the conference system, in which students meet with their professors every other week to discuss work. Without this latter feature, I wouldn't have the opportunity to get to know my instructors.

When I first applied to MFA programs, I vowed I would only attend a university that offered me a full ride, stipend, and teaching experience. Several offered me all three, but I chose NYU, which offered only one semester of teaching and very little financial assistance. I chose it for the name, the location, the outreach programs, and the faculty; I also didn't, at that age, really know what it meant to have student-loan debt. After you've finished, most faculty will tell you they're too busy to give recommendation letters or blurbs, even if you've studied closely with them.

I only applied to one MFA program: Brooklyn College. It met all of my needs—local, affordable, competitive, highly regarded, flexible enough that I could continue working. The tuition is really the great equalizer. Brooklyn makes pursuing an advanced degree in poetry possible without incurring massive debt. I had great professors, especially Mac Wellman, Lou Asekoff, Lisa Jarnot, and Julie Agoos, and, ultimately, I learned that writing isn't about recognition in workshop, it's about sitting down and getting friendly with words, every single day.

I sought a program where writing would not be locked down in a narrow routine, overworking a single muscle in poetry, fiction, essay, etc. I am delighted with my selection of Stony Brook Southampton. I'm on the Manhattan track, which allows me access to unparalleled talent, and so close to home! My work has grown through exposure to top tier novelists, playwrights, essayists, and more. Their genuine interest in my work is an unexpected tonic and contributes to a dynamic, supportive classroom experience.