Cover Letter Advice

Since we’re talking about submitting to magazines, let’s talk cover letters for a moment. As I said the other day, I don’t know that they help all that much, but the can hurt, so while I wouldn’t advise spending too much time trying to get it just right, I also would advise taking enough care to avoid some of the obvious pitfalls.

Many magazines still require or request them, but some do not, so my best first advice is to follow the magazine’s guidelines when submitting. If they don’t want a cover letter, then don’t send one. If they provide a cover letter field in their submission portal, then include a brief cover letter unless they say it is optional, in which case it really is up to you.

Unless the guidelines say otherwise, don’t include the cover letter in the file you submit. People do this all the time, and I try to ignore it, but it’s annoying. Many magazines want to read submissions blind, and even if we don’t, we usually don’t want to read the cover letter with the submission. We may read it first or we may read it last, but we want to see the poems (or fiction, etc.) by themselves. In part, this is because we will take the file of any submission we accept, and we will import that into the file we use to create our magazine. We won’t publish your cover letter, so we don’t want it in that file.

If the guidelines say to put it in the file, then follow those guidelines, of course — everyone has their own way of working, but typically the cover letter is separate.

In an old-fashioned postal submission, a cover letter was always a separate sheet, attached with a paper clip to the submission. It could be easily removed as a record of the submission, which would then be circulated among the editors. I suppose that’s why it’s called a cover letter. It listed the titles submitted, the name of the submitter, and the address. Those are all included in an electronic submission somehow, so cover letters aren’t as important as they once were.

The next best advice I can give is to keep your cover letter reasonably brief: no longer than my longest paragraph above, and that’s probably pushing it. You will not impress anyone with a long cover letter. You will distract them from getting to your poems or story, etc. Make every word count, but keep it short and to the point.

Have you actually read the magazine? If so, then it’s fine to mention something specific about it. But don’t pretend you read it when you haven’t. That becomes painfully obvious. Avoid phrases like “I love your magazine” unless followed by something that shows you know what magazine you’re submitting to. Flattery may not get you anywhere but false flattery gets you nowhere, and fast.

Don’t list every publication you’ve ever had, and don’t try too hard to impress with your publications. I’m of the mind that it can be a good idea to list a few recent publications, but if you sound like you’re bragging, you could turn an editor off. Be modest, but tell about who you are. Often, I don’t list publications at all, but I’ll tell a little about myself and maybe say something about the magazine. However, when reading cover letters, if I see a short list of publications, I don’t mind, and it can get my interest, especially if they are similar to mine.

If you’ve never published or if you only have a few publication credits, don’t feel embarrassed by that fact. It’s fine to mention that this would be your first publication or that you are in high school or college or are fairly new at publishing. Editors like to support new writers, and we also like to publish people who have good credentials. We’re looking for a good mix of seasoned and fresh voices. We often like to know a little bit about where someone is submitting from or what they do for a living. It won’t get your work accepted, but it does make you seem human and may add a little context to what we read, if we read your cover letter first, not last.

That’s really all you have to do. Follow our guidelines and act like a real human being. Don’t try too hard to impress, just be yourself and then let your submission do most of the talking. If we ask for anything specific, be sure to give us that, but otherwise just let us get on to reading your work.

Of course, a cover letter can be too brief. I still remember one of the worst cover letters I ever got. All it said was something like, “I hope you like my poems. If not, you’re an idiot.” I laughed out loud when I read it, but I still didn’t accept those poems. I might have, but they weren’t that great.

On that note, you should probably avoid humor in a cover letter unless you know the editors well enough to know it will work. And don’t be too personal, unless you know the editors very well. Keep it cordial, keep it professional, and keep it brief. Remember that the main thing the editor should care about is your submission.

Letter to a Young Poet

The other day, I received an email from a poet, I don’t really know his age, asking about what he could do to get his work published. From his message, I gathered he was submitting to magazines, but hadn’t been accepted yet, or hadn’t been accepted much. I thought I could use that as an opportunity to put together a blog post with some advice on publishing, and that I could allude to Rainer Maria Rilke’s book Letters to a Young Poet in my title. I also borrow some of Rilke’s advice in the end.

The first bit of advice I always give to poets who haven’t been published is to be patient. It takes time and perseverance to get your work seen by a magazine. As you know, magazines receive many, many more poems than they can possibly publish. The acceptance rate at most magazines is under 5%, and for some of the most well-established magazines, it is less than 1%. Poetry South, receives around a thousand submissions per year, maybe more. Since we only accept 4 poems at a time, that’s well over 4,000 poems. We aim to publish about 100 pages of poems per year. Some poems are more than one page, so there will be less than 100 poems in the issue, but let’s stick with 100 to keep the math simple. Each poem has a 1% chance of being accepted. If you send four poems, you increase your odds to 4% that one of them could be the one we pick. Of course, we do sometimes choose more than one poem by the same poet, but your odds per submission and per poem remain about the same.

Now let’s think about that. What are the chances that 96% of our submissions are not as good as your poems? Realistically, even for poets who’ve been around for quite awhile and are writing at the top of their game, there’s no way that their poems will be that much better than 96% of all the other submissions. You see that editors have to make a judgement call that is incredibly difficult. And you see that the decision has less to do with the quality of your poems, so you shouldn’t take a returned manuscript personally. I don’t like to call them ‘rejected poems.’ They simply weren’t chosen. Your poems may have been better than 50% or better than 80% of other submissions and still not have made the final cut or even the initial cut. As hard as it is to believe, you have to realize it usually isn’t about you at all.

It’s not just a numbers game, either. If you consider the odds, it is probably true that if you submit your work to enough magazines over time, eventually one of your poems will get accepted. Of course, quality does matter, so you could be submitting work that is consistently in the bottom 50% of submissions all of that time and never get an acceptance unless you send to magazines that really don’t care — are there any of those? Would you want to be in them? So how can you increase your odds and ensure you’re in the top 50% of submissions or higher? My best answer is to do your research.

This will help you in many ways. Not only can you get a better sense of what poetry editors are interested in today, but you will also learn that there are many different kinds of magazines and many different kinds of editors, and that they are looking for many different kinds of poetry when they read submissions.  Poetry South doesn’t have one kind of poem that we want to see, but there some kinds of poems that we are a lot less likely to accept than others. We might surprise you, or we might surprise ourselves, but if you read our magazine (and back issues are available online for free), you’ll get a better sense of our aesthetic. If you do that with many magazines, you’ll also begin to develop your own aesthetic, and you’ll start to identify the magazines that align well with your aesthetic and are the places where you want to submit. 

Then you’ll still need to get your poems to the right person at the right time, and there’s only so much you can control about that. You can’t tell who will read your work, and you can’t tell when they will read it, but you can influence that by choosing when to submit. Keep track of each magazine’s deadlines, and try not to submit right at the final bell or your poems will be there along with everyone else’s who submit at the last minute. That’s my best general advice about when to submit (early to the middle of the submission period), but it does sometimes work to submit at the deadline, so I wouldn’t avoid that entirely. Just know that you may have to be luckier to get accepted if you do. Yes, luck plays a part, which again is why you can’t take a returned poem personally.

It will take many, many submissions to get accepted—or maybe it won’t. I’ve had some poems accepted by the first place I sent them, and others, that I felt were just as good or better, returned by a dozen or more magazines before they found a home. A few of my favorite poems were never published until I put them in a book, at which point I stop sending them to magazines unless the magazine accepts previously published work. So never give up. Keep looking for new places to send your work that you think will be a good home for it, then send it at the right time, and hope for the best. I have a couple of recent blog posts that might help with this and provide some links to resources.

Besides researching and finding the best places to send your poems, of course, you should also take time on crafting your submission. Make sure to proofread it carefully. There’s nothing like a typo to get an editor to move on to the next submission. That may seem harsh, but when you have hundreds of poems to read in a night, there’s really no point in reading past a glaring mistake. There is such a thing as poetic license, but it doesn’t extend to misspelled words or misplaced commas, unless those are clearly intentional. Send clean, clean copy. Proofread multiple times and maybe get someone else to look at it who might see something you overlook because you’ve read it a dozen times. Also make sure to craft a submission for the magazine you’re submitting to. Choose poems that go together and poems that you think are a good fit for that magazine.

You asked about cover letters. I’m of the opinion that they really can’t help you much, but they can hurt. So don’t sound like a jerk and don’t sound pompous or egotistical. It’s fine to list some prior publications (don’t list them all if you have a lot), but there’s really no need to impress. Let your poems do that. Say one or two things about yourself if they might be interesting. Keep your cover letter brief, and keep it professional.

Don’t send the same cover letter to every magazine — or if you do, then keep it very generic and only about yourself, not the magazine. If you do say something nice about the magazine (which is common advice, though I don’t know how helpful it really is), then name the magazine you’re submitting to, and maybe say something specific about a poem or about an issue you’ve read. Nothing sounds more disingenuous than a sentence like “I’ve been reading your magazine for years.” Unless I know your name from our subscription list, I will believe you say that to all the magazines, and it will definitely turn me off. I’d rather you didn’t say anything than that you sound too generic if you’re going to give us a compliment.

Do follow the magazine’s guidelines. At Poetry South we ask you to include a short bio written in third person. If you don’t do that, you’ve just made it twice as hard to get accepted. If your bio isn’t short, you’ve made it three times as hard to get accepted, because I’d rather ask for a bio later than edit one that I know is too long. Read contributors’ notes in the magazines you submit to so you’ll know how they should sound. Every magazine has their guidelines and each one is a little different. They may seem arbitrary to you, but for the magazine they are important and they keep the system running smoothly — remember, we’re all overworked and usually not paid, so we need things to work the way that works for us.

Finally, you wanted to know what you could do to improve your poetry so it would be more acceptable. I will borrow Rainer Maria Rilke’s advice from his Letters to a Young Poet, and tell you to search within yourself for your answer. Rilke’s letters might not be bad to read either, but I would say you could start with what moves you in a poem and explore what you want a poem to do. Then weigh this against the poems you read in the magazines you research (or read current books of poetry). What other poets move you, and how do they do what they do in their poems.

Don’t just try to copy other poets, but allow those other poets to challenge you, either to write like them (but in your way) or to write differently but in response to what they are writing. You don’t have to like or even admire every ‘famous poet’ (an oxymoron if I ever heard one), but you should find the kinds of poets that you respond to, learn from them and challenge them. And learn about where they have published (acknowledgements pages and contributors’ notes can be invaluable) so you find the places that might be receptive to your work.

A graduate degree (MA, MFA, PhD in writing or literature) can help you along this path, but isn’t absolutely necessary unless you want to teach. Writing workshops, festivals, readings, open mics, or other venues can also help you connect with a writing community. The more connected you are, the more opportunities you will find for getting your work out there. And the more connected you are, the more you will be challenged to improve your writing, and if you are challenged by people you admire and respect, then it won’t feel like someone telling you what to do. It will feel like the natural evolution of your voice.

As long as you keep reading, writing, and growing as a writer, then if you keep submitting your work to magazines and keep looking for the magazines that will be receptive to your work, you will get published. It is only a matter of time, and of putting in the effort.

New Year’s Resolution for Writers: Keep Better Track of Submissions

Often writers make a New Year’s resolution to submit more of their work to magazines. The goal to have 100 rejections in a year (i.e. to submit to more than one hundred places) is a good one, since it emphasizes putting and keeping your work in play more than judging yourself by how many acceptances this garners. Submitting to magazines can be a long game. As overwhelmed with submissions as most magazines are, any submission you send is more likely to come back than it is to be accepted. Simultaneous submissions have become the rule, and we all struggle with the sheer numbers of poems, stories, essays, etc. that are in the slush pile. From the writer’s side, it is important to remember that the competition is fierce, editing is subjective, and you can’t take a returned manuscript personally. I never say “rejected,” since I know it just wasn’t at the right place at the right time, and there are so many variables that are beyond the control of the writer.

Because of the number of submissions that you are likely sending out, though, an equally important New Year’s resolution is to keep better track of the submissions you’ve sent and the responses you’ve received. This will make your life easier when you don’t send the same thing or the same kind of thing to the same magazine twice and when you are able to track which magazines have given you a more personal response. Those really do mean something! And it will help avoid the bane of all magazine editors’ existence: the note from an accepted author that their work has already been accepted elsewhere — nothing makes us more upset, though if your response to our acceptance is at least immediate we are more likely to understand. Messages do cross in the mail. We require you to withdraw your submission as soon as it is accepted elsewhere, so keeping track of everywhere you’ve sent it is vital.

Fortunately, there are now many ways to track your submissions, which means it is also inexcusable not to keep good records. Submittable has a feature for logging submissions, even if they aren’t submitted on its platform, so you can keep track of everything in one place. I haven’t tried it, so I can’t vouch for how user-friendly it is. Duotrope is another service where you can track submissions, and if you pay for the service, you can see stats on magazines based on other writers’ submissions that are tracked on the site. The Submission Grinder is another online submission tracking service, though it is free, and you can also track submissions at ChillSubs, though it seems as if it might be limited to only tracking submissions to magazines they list. Poets & Writers also has their own online submission tracker, which is free once you set up an account on their site.

All of these online submission trackers can be convenient. I would pick one that works well for you and that you will remember to use, and stick with that for all of your submissions. However, all of these services store your data on their servers or in the cloud, so you may want something that you can access offline or that you can keep on your own device and back up regularly. I hate to depend on someone else to store my data, and I have a long history of submissions that predates any of these services by decades (entering that by hand would be cumbersome, and import options don’t seem to be available). I’m also a poet, so I send four, five, or even more individual titles to a magazine at a time, so I want an easy way to track multiple titles submitted to one place, which is why I developed SubTracker, a database for Libre Office/Open Office. I was also able to import my previous submission data from spreadsheets that I exported from my previous, homegrown solution. Something similar could be done in Microsoft Access, but that isn’t available on a Mac, which I use. SubTracker is free to use, so download a copy if you’d like to try it out. It does require Libre Office or Open Office to use, since it is not a standalone program, but is a template for a database.

Some people use spreadsheets or even index cards to keep track of submissions, but I’ve found that a system like that quickly becomes too complicated and hard to keep up with. A database is the better way to go, whether you use one of the many online resources or set one up on your own computer. A database gives you more ways to view your data. In SubTracker, you can get a list of all submissions that are still out, or all titles that currently aren’t submitted. Whichever database you choose, make getting a better handle on your submission tracking a priority for 2023, and every magazine editor you submit to will thank you!

My Wordle Strategy

I do not claim to be the greatest Wordle player ever, though my stats are pretty good: 98% win and a max streak of 45 days. I’d like to say that after 45 days, I skipped a day over the holidays, which I did, but in fact, it did beat me once before that. Oh well…

By the way, this is just a fun post to get my blog restarted in the new year. Happy 2023! I promise to come back to more compelling topics like poetry and MFA applications soon. But maybe this is a post about poetry in a way, since my Wordle strategy is more about exercising my brain than about winning. I play the New York Time’s Wordle nearly every day, and then move on to Dordle (I choose the one at Zaratustra because it has fewer ads). From there, I do at least one, sometimes two Dutch versions to practice my Dutch, and then switch back to Quordle and sometimes a Dutch Quordle just for fun. Switching languages feels like a good mental trick.

My goal (in each language), besides winning, is to stretch myself to try new words, so I don’t use the common strategy of choosing the same first word every time. That would probably bore me. Instead, I try to use a different starting word every time, picking a word at random, usually one with five unique letters and at least two vowels. One goal is to use all five vowels (or six if you count ‘y’) in the first two or three words, though I don’t always do that, especially not in Wordle. In Dordle or Quordle, usually my first two or three words are chosen only to use letters and I don’t try to solve the puzzle until row three or four.

I like to think of the game as a strategy game. Rather than just trying to find the right word (the ultimate goal), I try to eliminate (and reveal) letters. That sometimes means guessing a word that I know will be wrong but will use some letters that I want to test. Nothing is more frustrating than trying a string of words where you have all but one or two of the letters, yet there are more possibilities than you can get right. Rather than trying ‘right’ and ‘fight’ and ‘might’ and ‘sight’ (and running out of room to try them all), it might be better to try ‘first’ to rule out or reveal the ‘r,’ ‘f,’ or ‘s’ as a correct letter. If none are in the answer word, then ‘might’ could be the correct choice.

I don’t always remember to do this strategy in time, but the goal is to look for letter combination patterns, try words that will reveal most of the letters, and then consider the options that could form words with the letters that haven’t been ruled out before making my final guesses. This might mean I take a guess that doesn’t work, so it might mean solving the puzzle in one more try than it would take if I guessed right initially, but it improves my odds of solving the puzzle at all, assuming there are more possible words than remaining rows of the Wordle and that I still have at least two guesses remaining so I can rule out some options.

Especially with the Dutch games, my main goal is to come up with valid words, so I’m not terribly dissatisfied when I lose (though my stats on Woordle aren’t a lot worse than on Wordle with 91% wins and a max streak of 26). Even on English, thinking about how letters could combine to form words and trying not to use the same letter in the same location of a word while trying out different letters for the ones I haven’t guessed right can be fun. And I try to remember that a letter can be used two or even three times in a a word, so I should check for doubled letters as I consider all the possibilities. All of this makes Wordle a fun distraction that jogs my memory and keeps my active vocabulary active. The one potential downside could be that I would start using more five-letter words in everyday speech. Thankfully, there’s always the Spelling Bee or other activities (like reading or writing) to keep longer and shorter words fresh in my mind!

Don’t take Wordle or any of its variants too seriously, in other words. Play them for the challenge (if you enjoy it). Play to win, but also play to play with words and letters.

How to Write a Ghazal

I feel like I’ve finally had a breakthrough with the ghazal. Now, I won’t claim to be an expert—it will take writing many ghazals before I would begin to think I was even approaching that level—but I do believe I have the beginnings of a ghazal and a strategy for tackling the form. Ghazal’s don’t seem hard, though that might be deceptive. The form is easy enough to describe, and rather than repeat it here, I’ll point you to two of my favorite descriptions by Academy of American Poets and the Poetry Foundation. The advantage to these is that they both provide good examples. It’s a form that seems easy to understand, yet challenging to wrap your mind around.

One of the facets of the ghazal that intrigues me is that each couplet is a distinct semantic, thematic, even emotional unit. That is to say, unlike most of the poems I tend to write, each couplet stands alone, yet they are linked together primarily by the repetition of a rhyme, followed by a refrain, a word or phrase that is repeated throughout the poem.

What has been the biggest stumbling block has been landing on a word or phrase I might want to repeat at the end of each couplet. It seemed necessary to decide on this, and then to choose a rhyme to preceed it, almost reverse engineering the poem from the outset. What helped me to decide that I had a good refrain was thinking about the rules for the initial couplet.

Once I came upon a phrase I thought I could dwell on for the length of a poem, I knew it could actually be the the beginnings of a ghazal once I could get the first couplet to work. Each line of the first couplet ends with the rhyme and the refrain, and yet I wanted that couplet also to be one complete sentence. That rule of mine isn’t a hard and fast rule for the ghazal, but it didn’t feel right to form the first couplet out of two one-sentence lines. I wanted the initial couplet to feel like one unit, not two separate lines, if that makes sense.

Once I had an idea of how I could write this initial sentence that included two instances of a refrain preceeded by a rhyme, then I had a good sense that I could write several more couplets, since the form relaxes and I just had to end with the rhyme and refrain each time. This allowed me to come up with pairings of rhyme and refrain, which I could then write toward. For this initial draft, I came up with six more pairs and began to look for ways to write towards them in their couplets.

Because each couplet is a distinct semantic and thematic unit, I can rearrange them later. I can discard any rhyme/refrain pairs that don’t work, and I can search for more rhymes that might be interesting with the refrain. I can keep tinkering with this ghazal, revising individual couplete, searching for more possibilities, expanding the thematic reach of the poem by exploring new ideas. I can include some off-rhyme or find ways to reimagine the syntax of the refrain to keep things lively. At some point, I will feel I ought to be done, and one way to know I’ve reached that point will be when I find a way to incorporate my name in a concluding couplet. Of course, I might find that final couplet long before I’ve exhausted my search for other ones to add in the middle of the poem. I might still rearrange and find interesting combinations of theme and of rhyme. It is a poem and a form that I can keep coming back to until I’m ready to move on.

This is one quality that has drawn me to the ghazal. It is not a poem that makes a single statement; it is a poem that ruminates on subjects linked by sound and repetition. By juxtaposing couplets that are distinct units, connections can be found between ideas that are made by association, not logic, so language gets pushed to discover new meaning. This and its formal complexity means the ghazal runs counter to my poetic instincts, making it a challenge that is well worth exploring.

Book Review: Steve Yarbrough’s Stay Gone Days

Stay Gone Days by Steve Yarbrough

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


Yarbrough’s novel Stay Gone Days tells us a story that spans four decades in the lives of two sisters from the fictional Delta town of Loring, Mississippi. Their stories begin with their adventures in the town’s private high school in the 1970s. Though they go their separate ways, both characters’ lives take numerous twists and turns, often arriving where they might think is the end of the road but becomes a new jumping-off place. Yarbrough is an exquisite observer of character and place. His vivid portrayal of the social strata Loring and of iconic Mississippi locales like the Sun-n-Sand in Jackson transport the reader back to that era, though not exactly with nostalgia. There are traumatic events, crimes, betrayals, narrow escapes, triumphs, and attempts at reconciliation that drive his characters along their own winding paths, leading them to landscapes of Central California, Boston, and Poland, familiar to readers of Yarbrough’s fiction.

The novel is, as the reviewer for Rain Taxi called it, “Wise, tender, and honest,” as it “forces readers to confront the inevitability of aging and the choices we make to maintain or sever family ties.” Along the way, Yarbrough, through his characters, provides sage advice on writing, relationships, and life, along with the occasional cultural reference that grounds us in a common time and place, and even a few cameos by writers and musicians. Though both sisters experience their traumas and triumphs, it is in the masterful telling of their stories that they become unforgettable.




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Updating My Poems Page

On the occasion of publishing a poem this month in the fabulous River Mouth Review, I realized I needed to update my Poems page with a number of online publications. It is now up to date with links from the past year or so. Reading the other writers in these magazines is always an amazing reminder of why we do what we do. There are so many amazing voices out there, writing vital words, fighting to be heard amidst all the noise. Hasn’t it always been that way? Yet the current firehose of (mis)information can make it seem all the more overwhelming.

Find yourself a good book or a good literary magazine and take a break from all the hubub. It’s not escapism; you will return with renewed energy and insight.

Of Lines and Sentences in Poems

This week, one of my favorite magazines, Birmingham Poetry Review, accepted two of my poems. They’re not that easy to get into, so I’m very pleased to have two poems selected for their Spring 2024 issue. In proofreading the poems before sending them back, I was reminded that they both have many more lines than they have sentences, which has me thinking about the way lines and sentences interactin in a poem.

In one poem, there are two only sentences and twenty-one lines. The first sentence sets up the poem in the first two lines, and the second sentence continues for nineteen lines. For me, these are relatively short lines — probably four beats per line, maybe five, and lately I’ve been writing longer lines with at least six beats, though I don’t always count. Still, that second sentence is a pretty long one with many dependent clauses, lists, and even a coordinating conjunction or two. I like the feeling of tumult that it causes as the sentence keeps going over line breaks. Since there are quite a few commas in a periodic sentence like this, there are opportunities for enjambment, end-stoppped lines, and ceasurae within the lines. The overlaop of syntax rhythms and the rhythms of the beats within the line can create a polyrhythmic feel.

In a similar way, the second poem has three sentences stretched out over nineteen lines. These lines are a little longer with at least six beats per line, though again, I don’t really count beats or scan for meter. What’s interesting in this poem in contrast to the first is that the initial sentence stretches for nine lines, then the second sentence is only one line, actually a little less. The first word of the third sentence is the last word on that tenth line, and that final sentence stretches for nine more lines, until the end. Instead of a stanza break, the short sentence at the midpoint of the poem is like putting your foot on the brakes, a short stop before the momentum of the poem picks up again.

I don’t always write in long sentences, and I probably need to remind myself not to overdo it (though these poems got accepted at a great magazine, so maybe it’s not a terrible idea). What they remind me of, which is one thing I love about poetry, is to pay attention to the ways that a sentence and the lines of a poem interact. I like layerying the flow of the sentence over the rhythms of the lines. I like finding variety in sentence length, and finding ways to end the sentence within the line at different points. There is no one right way to do it, of course, but there are many options that affect the mood and the pacing of the poem. In these poems, I wanted the sense of momentum that a long sentence can bring, especially as one phrase builds on the previous ones and the sounds and images accumulate without the break that the end of a sentence can give. Other poems call for shorter sentences or more variety in the kinds of sentences. In any case, the ways that the line and the sentence interact continues to grab my attention.

Ranking MFA Programs in Creative Writing

It’s that time of the year again — the time when writers everywhere get serious about looking for an MFA program. It only makes sense, with many application deadlines coming due in December or January, if you want to be in an MFA program a year from now, you’ll want to get serious about looking by now, or at least very soon. There are a lot of programs out there, and finding the right one for you, can be a challenge.

Our program has already received its first application for Spring (our December 1 deadline is for Spring 2023; our priority deadline for Summer or Fall is March 1), and we’ve had other inquiries, some of whom will probably send in their applications in September or October, which we recommend. But our main application period will begin in earnest in December or January when the Fall applications start to roll in.

As you are looking at programs, you might be tempted to look at the rankings. And if you do, you may find that there both are quite a few places online that rank graduate programs, and none or just a few that are very authorative. I tend not to take much stock in those website rankings, even though we’ve been grateful that we’ve ranked fairly highly among low-residency programs, and that has probably steered some good students our way. I’ve also seen how they do their rankings (or tried to figure that out), so I have my doubts.

How did we go from #1 to #9 in the span of a year in one ranking? I can’t tell. Did I believe we were the best program in the country? Sure, but not really that we deserved that ranking more than some other really good programs. Do I think we deserve to be #9? Maybe, though I’m not sure why. I do suspect that a big weight in a lot of those rankings is placed on the cost of the program, which helps us because our tuition is low. That’s good information to have, but isn’t the only consideration a prospective MFA student should consider. I don’t think those websites are really qualified to rank MFA programs, especially when I see they often put MFA and MA programs on the same list with no distinction between the two. A 48 hour MFA is hardly equivalent to a 36 hour MA, after all, yet in a couple of rankings some MA programs are ranked higher than ours, probably because our extra hours cost more in tuition. Yet the difference in the credential between an MA and an MFA is worth the added cost, especially if the MFA is your goal. (Nothing against MA programs, either; they just aren’t the same thing.)

So as glad as I am when our program ranks highly (yet I wonder why), and as often as I let our PR department put out a press release touting these rankings, I’m equally aware that the only MFA ranking that really matters is yours. If you value what our program has to offer, then we’ll make it onto your list. If not, then maybe I’m glad we don’t. If the online rankings get us on your radar so you consider us, then I’m happy, but I don’t put much more stock in them than that.

So how should you rank MFA programs? That’s probably what made you read this blog post, and maybe why you’ve kept reading. The answer really is that only you can know. It all depends on your goals and the kind of program you’re looking for. But that’s not terribly helpful. so here are some of the things I think you probably want to consider.

Reputation. Yes, I realize this is going to factor highly on many of your lists. It’s not a bad criterion to have, though it’s not the only one. Consider how long a program has been around, who is on the faculty and where have they published. Also consider what their graduates have gone on to do (though this can be a little harder to suss out). And consider what their current students are doing right now, which is what their future reputation will build on.

Our program is only 7 years young at this point, so we probably won’t score quite as high on this one, but we do think we’re on the way to developing a stellar reputation as a scrappy little program at a state university. What kind of reputation do you want in your program? There are a lot of ways you can look at reputation. Longevity is not the only one. For a program that has a long-standing reputation, ask whether they are still living up to it, or are they just resting on their laurels?

Community. This is also a tough one to judge unless you get a chance to visit a school, attend virtual readings, stalk them online (it’s alright, we don’t mind if you watch our social media to see who we are — that’s what it’s for after all!), or reach out to current students and alums. Again, there is no right or wrong answer to this question. Do you thrive on competition? There will be plenty of programs for you. Do you want a supportive, collaborative environment that will foster you as a writer? Those programs exist, too. We like to believe we are the latter. Do you look for something in between? I bet you can find several.

Genre. Who are the writers, both faculty and students, in the program and what do they write? Are you tracked into one main genre or are you allowed, encouraged, or even required to step outside your comfort zone and explore other genres? Besides the main genres of fiction, poetry, creative nonfiction, and drama, where does the program come down on sub-genres? Are young adult or fantasy or Afrofuturism or traditional verse forms or lyric essay allowed or encouraged? Or treated as pariahs? Look at what the writers in the program produce. Look at the courses the program offers. Talk to people in the program to see how they respond to the kind(s) of writing you want to do.

Cost. Yes, this is a big one. I could put it number one, but I’d like to think it’s not the only factor. I do realize that it is a big one. Do the programs on your list offer full funding? If so, what does that cover and what other costs might be incurred if you attend that program? If the program is fully funded, is it enough to live on? What income might you have to give up from your day job to enter the program (if it’s a traditional resident program, as most fully funded programs are)? If it’s not fully funded, how easy will it be for you to fund yourself, either through loans or by holding down a job or both? What are the true costs of the program, in other words?

An MFA is worth an investment, and if you’re funded, you will be investing time and energy (often by teaching), so what kind of investment is right for you? In considering costs, also consider the emotional costs that entering a program might entail. Will you have to move? How will your relationships be affected by this choice? It’s never simply about the dollar amount, though finances are important, as they should be. You should have a financial plan.

Location. If you’re looking at traditional resident MFA programs, then the location is especially important. Can you live there? How easy or hard would it be to move? What is the cost of living? Will it be a familiar place or a grand adventure? And if you’re looking at low-residency programs, the location can still be important. What will your travel costs be? How often will you need to be on campus? For either kind of program, and even for those fully online programs, how does location affect the culture of the program or the kind of writing they may be looking for? Where do the students and faculty come from? I won’t say that location fully defines either, but it might have an influence and is worth considering. What kind of location do you thrive in? What locations might challenge you in important ways?

Our program’s home is in small-town Mississippi, which may not be many people’s first idea of where to get their MFA, yet one of our alums, Kyla Hanington, recently published a piece in Bitter Southerner about her own journey to falling for our state after traveling here for our program. I mention her essay because it’s instructive about how any location can affect the writer in surprising ways.

Community. Finally, I think community should be on your list. Yes, I’ve already mentioned the culture of the program, but by community, I am thinking beyond your years in the program. An MFA should last a lifetime. What is the program’s relationship with its alumni? Are alums involved with current students or invited back for workshops or events? How do alums of the program interact with one another? It’s a good sign when there’s a strong connection among alums, especially alums from different years. It’s something I’m sure most MFA programs try to foster; how well we do at that is indicative of how well we do overall. Maybe you want a program that you can leave as soon as you graduate, never looking back. Maybe you want one that will continue to support you and that is invested in your success, as a writer, as a scholar, and as a person.

These are the main criteria that I would use if I were ranking programs. I’m sure there are many others. I’ve certainly written about some of them. But if I’m thinking about what any prospective MFA student ought to consder as they compile their list and begin their own ranking, these would be the main ones. From there, dig down into the specifics that affect your search and your choice. Find the best program for you and your situation. There is no program that should be ranked #1 for everyone.

Consider the communications you get from the program, the information they make available on their website, the way they promote their students and alumni. Attend public (or virtual) readings or other events. Go with your gut, and also consider the costs of a program and what you will be able to do with it once you graduate. There is a great ranking — it’s the one you come up with as you research the programs that may be in your future! Best of luck to everyone. May you find your MFA home! (I assume if you’ve read this far, that’s your goal.)

Cavalier Pancakes

This summer, I told our son, who is moving into his first apartment as he goes to grad school, to check my blog for recipes of our old standbys. This morning, making pancakes, I realized that one recipe I’ve never written down is my pancake recipe.

Disclaimer: tread carefully. Over the years, I’ve gotten pretty cavalier with my pancakes. Some of the best advice I’ve ever ignored has been to make things up when you’re cooking on the stove top (stir-fry, pasta sauce, etc. are pretty forgiving) but to follow a recipe carefully when baking. That is good advice, especially when learning to bake, so this recipe is certainly not for the faint of heart.

My pancake recipe started with a recipe in a cookbook that was geared towards cooking for one or two people. I followed it for years, but eventually had it memorized and got myself into situations where I didnt have the recipe or had to make adjustments for different numbers of people. I even made it for friends in Europe, where I didn’t have my usual measuring cups and spoons, so I had to make it up as I went along. Gradually, it became so rote, that now I hardly measure at all, though I do use a measuring cup for the flour and buttermilk: everything else is estimated by hand or sight.

For 2 people: I start with a slightly heaping 1/3 cup each of white and whole wheat flour in a medium-sized mixing bowl. Then I add about 1/2 teaspoon baking soda, 1 tablespoon of sugar, and 1/4 teaspoon of salt — I suppose. This will make approximately 10 pancakes, depending on what you put in for fruit or nuts. Adust the flour and buttermilk (added later) depending on your appetite and the amount of fruit or nuts. If using a whole banana, I would probably use level 1/3 cups, for instance. If I had no fruit to add, I might add a little more flour.

These measurements are done in my hand, so they may not be terribly accurate anymore, and they are actually fairly forgiving. Too little baking soda and the pancakes won’t rise very well; too much, and you will taste the soda. Salt and sugar are necessary, but the amounts can be pretty flexible as long as you don’t add too much salt. Leave out the salt entirely, and your pancakes will be bland.

For 3 people: I start with a heaping 1/2 cup each of wheat and whole wheat flour. I’m a bit more generous with the baking soda, sugar, and salt. Adjust the amounts according to the number of people you need to serve. For 1 person: I would probably start with a shy 1/4 cup of each flour and adjust as needed. For 4 people: I would use 2/3 cup of each kind of flour, maybe using heaping cups, depending on people’s appetites. When it’s three of us and a grandmother, I don’t use heaping 2/3 cups unless I’m trying to have a few leftovers.

Once you’ve mixed your dry ingredients well with a wire wisk or fork, then it’s time to add some oil. Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients, and pour in about 1 tablespoon of oil for every 2 people. I never measure this anymore, and the amount of oil is pretty forgiving. Use more for 3-4 people than for 1-2, obviously. I use canola oil, though olive oil will do in a pinch (though it may add a bit more olive flavor).

Crack 1 egg into the oil for every 2 people served. Usually I will use 1 egg for 3 people and it’s fine, though sometimes, esp. with smaller eggs, I’ll use 2 eggs for 3 people. For 4 people, I usually use 2 eggs, though I’ve gotten away with using 1 egg for that many pancakes if necessary. For 1 person, you will have to use 1 egg. The pancakes may be a little eggy, but they’ll be fine.

Add 3-4 measures of buttermilk to the well with the egg and oil. If I’ve used heaping 1/3 cups for flour, then I pour 3 or 4 1/3 cup measurements into the well; if I’ve used 1/2 cup for flour, then I pour 3 or 4 of those in. To be on the safe side, start with 3 measures. You can always add more buttermilk later. If you don’t have enough (or any) buttermilk, then regular milk can be substituted, though you won’t need as much. Start with 3 measures and see. You can also substitute a mixture of milk and plain yoghurt for buttermilk.

Add a 1/4 teaspoon or so of vanilla if you have it. (I’ve sometimes used port wine as a flavoring; it tends to make the pancakes rise well, too. Pure vanilla has the best flavor, though.)

Mix everything together with your whisk or fork. This is where you have to judge the consistency of the batter. Don’t beat it too much or too much gluten will form. For light pancakes, the batter should be just mixed up. Many recipes even say you should leave a few lumps. When mixing by hand, I don’t worry about that too much since it would be hard to over mix with a whisk or fork.

Mix in fruit (blueberries, banana, peach, fresh figs, are some of our favorites) and then check the consistency. Nuts like pecans or walnuts are great to add at this point. For decadent pancakes, add (mini) chocolate chips.

If your batter is too runny at this point, then add a little flour. (Sometimes juice from the fruit can cause it to get too runny.) If it’s too thick, then add buttermilk. You want a thick enough batter that will still pour off the spoon onto your griddle. It shouldn’t doughy and shouldn’t be too liquid. I like it if the batter is thick enough that it will be about 1/4 inch thick (or a little less maybe) when it first pours out and before it begins to rise.

Your griddle should be hot and lightly oiled. We use a Miro oil sprayer, but Pam or another commercial oil spray will work fine. Let the pancakes cook until they bubble up in the middle and the outsides begin to get firm. When they’re ready, the bubbles will also stay open because the batter has firmed up. Flip the pancakes to cook the other side. Both sides should be golden brown but not too dark, and the pancake should be cooked through (no runny batter on the inside). Adjust the heat of the griddle to avoid too much smoking (of the hot oil) yet to cook relatively quickly.

Serve hot off the griddle (or keep warm in a warmer or 170-degree oven) with pure maple syrup or your favorite commercial syrup or molasses. We have sometimes made a fruit syrup if we were out of maple, but we try not to be out of maple syrup. Extra fruit on top can also be great. Enjoy!