I am a saxophone player and composer living in New York City with my husband and daughter. I had taken a few writer's workshops when I heard about low-residency programs. These seemed like the perfect fit for me, as I wanted something more intense than workshops could ever offer, and something flexible enough to fit around my life. What attracted me to Bennington, besides its amazing faculty, was its offer of a "third semester switch," during which time students may change genres. I had been deemed a better nonfiction writer, but didn't want to be condemned to nonfiction for two years.

Serendipity brought me to LIU’s MFA creative writing program. My husband worked at LIU and, after a thirty-year teaching career, I joined an inspiring poetry course; the professor invited me to apply to the program. I held my breath. Could I handle this? This program is terrific. And I’m fussy. Have had courses all over (State University of New York, New York University, Bank Street, and Project Zero at Harvard). And I’ve had brilliant teachers at LIU.

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.