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I can't believe that I will graduate with my master's degree in just two months.
I have loved everything about the Graduate Program in Creative Writing at Western, and I know without a doubt that I made the right decision in choosing the publishing concentration. Kevin J. Anderson and Allyson Longueria have been the best professors and mentors that I could ask for, and I've made so many wonderful new friends and colleagues. I am feeling more confident in my career as an author and a soon-to-be publisher than I ever have. But as I reflect on my writer's journey so far—from my very first workshop class at ACC as a fresh-faced nineteen-year-old trying to develop my voice while figuring out early adulthood, to now, as an indie author with two books under my belt and a space already reserved on my wall to display my MA—there is a part of me that feels resentful towards some of my early professors and the education I received in my undergraduate creative writing courses. I realize how bratty that sounds. I am extremely fortunate to have even had the opportunity to pursue my life's dream. I also know that many things can be true at the same time, and it's possible (and okay) to hold more than one emotion at once. I can be grateful for the experiences I've had, grateful for where I am now, and excited about the future, while also being critical when I look back at some of the stops I've made along the way. I feel cheated by the professors who looked down their noses at genre fiction, whether with explicit or barely veiled disdain. Our lessons on the basics of craft—worldbuilding, character, story structure, plotting, archetypes, etc.—should have included different types of storytelling besides "literary" fiction—the preferred term for realism among academics, who erroneously consider it the only "serious" method of writing. I still cringe when I remember the professor who, when I asked why he didn't include genre fiction in our assigned readings, said that we needed to learn "literary" techniques before heading into "experimental" territory. As if the great genre writers—Stephen King, Octavia Butler, Terry Pratchett, Tamora Pierce, etc.—haven't used the very same techniques to create stories that have touched and inspired millions of people the world over, with more skill and artfulness than that professor could shake a stick at. There was another professor whom I looked up to and saw as a mentor, even long after I graduated. It wasn't until a few years ago that I began to look back on our relationship more critically. While I know she was not malicious, and I still carry many of the positives from her instruction with me, I believe her bias against genre fiction held me back creatively. She once told me in class that fairy tales were "nice," but didn't provide a good foundation for building "realistic" stories because they were "too simple." The working-class people of centuries past who kept their cultural and literary traditions alive via oral wonder tales, contemporary authors making their living off creative reimaginings of fairy tales, and professional folklorists (such as the fabulous women of Carterhaugh School) would like a word. To these academics, fantasy and sci-fi were frivolous escapism, horror was gratuitous, mysteries and thrillers were too cookie-cutter, and romance... well, let's just say that the Black Death would have received a warmer reception. And teaching your students that there is only one acceptable genre for serious writers is a deeply unfair disservice to them, both creatively and professionally. I resent being made to feel, as a young writer with big dreams, like I had to tone down or nix the horrific and the fantastic elements that I love so much if I were to have any hope of making it. I don't want new writers to become derailed in their creative pursuits. I was, and it set me back years from developing my real voice. This is what I would tell current creative writing students that I wish someone had told me. 1) F Anyone Who Tells You Genre Fiction Isn't "Real" Writing
This is pretentious BS. I am convinced that the only people who believe it are ladder-climbers who want to sound smarter than they actually are. To be clear, I'm not referring to folks who simply prefer literary/realism to speculative fiction—there are some great realistic fiction authors out there who absolutely deserve recognition and praise. What I am saying is that literary fiction is not the only "correct" form of storytelling. It's not just unfair to sideline genre fiction; it's intellectually dishonest to frame it as having no literary merit.
Think about the most well-known media franchises in popular culture; perhaps some of your favorite books, movies, shows, and games are among them. I'm willing to bet that most, if not all, are genre fiction. Speculative fiction allows us to dream as big as our imaginations can stretch and to explore life's big challenges and questions in ways realism can't. Writing genre fiction requires a different skill set than realism. To break it down even further, every genre has its own special set of conventions. And then there are subgenres upon subgenres—cozy fantasy vs. high fantasy, folk horror vs. cosmic horror, crime thriller vs. psychological thriller, historical romance vs. paranormal romance... oh my! And academics want to argue that none of it is "real" writing? That building intricate fantasy worlds, futuristic sci-fi societies, horror that pushes the reader right to the edge of their fears, thrillers that leave the heart pounding so fast a blood pressure cuff is in order, mysteries that keep the reader up at night trying to figure out the puzzle, and romance that makes the reader believe in love again requires no skill? I can't imagine having that kind of audacity. Whatever genre or genres you write, your stories matter. Any piece of writing can be literary if it's given the right care and craft. 2) Not Every Story is For Everybody
No matter how well-written your story is or how talented and dedicated a writer you are, not everyone is going to like your work. Maybe they don't care for the genre. They might not be crazy about the tropes you've used. They may hate your protagonist for personal reasons that have nothing to do with how you wrote them. Your prose may be too experimental for their taste, or not experimental enough.
And there will be times when you aren't fond of a story for the same reasons. This is why most traditional academic creative writing workshops aren't very helpful, especially for beginner writers who are trying to find and develop their voice. It's impossible to appeal to everyone, and it's easy to fall into the trap of thinking that you must change everything about your work for academic approval, or assurance that it's "good." You must always be open to receiving constructive feedback. The only thing worse than a writer who can't take criticism is a writer who can't take criticism and asks for it anyway. But always take critique with a grain of salt, and stay true to your vision. Ultimately, the only people you should aim to please are your readers. And if you write the stories that only you can tell, your readers will find you. 3) Find Your People Outside the Classroom
If you're serious about writing—whether as a career or a dedicated hobby—finding a community of writers who get you is essential. And you can't find that in a classroom.
That's not to say that you can't find individual writing besties in your courses. I met my best friend in one of our undergraduate workshops when we were assigned critique partners. We became friends when I saw she had made a reference to Repo! The Genetic Opera in her short story, and I realized I had found a mutual weirdo. We have since gone on to found and edit a zine together and co-edit each other's personal projects. (But even more important, I gained a lifelong bestie!) But a classroom is not a community. It's a course that people are taking for college credit, and, candidly, very few of your classmates will go on to be professional writers. Thankfully, you don't have to venture too far afield to find fellow scribblers. Depending on where you live, most cities and even some smaller towns have writers' groups that meet on a weekly or monthly basis in places like libraries, coffee shops, or even public parks. If you have the time, energy, and inclination, you could even start one yourself. Your local library or indie bookstores will more than likely be happy to help you advertise and possibly even host your group. You might be surprised by how many people would be happy to attend! If an in-person group isn't possible, there are tons of writing groups you can join online on platforms like Discord. If you can find one specifically in your genre, or one that welcomes multigenre authors, all the better. Remember, you are in control of your writing life. Writing can be a lonely business, and writers need community and camaraderie to sustain our art and our long-term mental well-being. And your people might be a lot closer than you think. 4) Indie Publishing Is as Legitimate as Trad Pub—and You Don't Have to Pick Just One!
Trust me on this. I literally just spent a year studying it.
The stigma and sidelining that independent publishing once faced have largely faded over the last decade. Indie book sales are skyrocketing, indie authors are earning more money (some are even making more than traditionally published authors!), and trad publishers are actively seeking out successful indie authors to sign. Indies are winning awards, receiving international recognition, and enriching the lives of readers all over the world every day. But you would be hard-pressed to find an academic creative writing instructor who would acknowledge that. At least, I certainly wouldn't have in my undergrad days. I hope that it's different now, because I was taught that no traditional publisher would ever look your way if you self-published; it clearly meant you were a mediocre writer at best, and/or you didn't have the grit to tough out the long and arduous querying process. It meant you were a hack and that your books were purely a vanity project. I resisted the idea of independently publishing my work for a long time, believing it would be the kiss of death for my career. But heed my words: BS is too generous a term for this codgswallop. Now, please don't misunderstand: I don't want to give you any illusions that indie publishing is a get-rich-quick endeavor. It is a long game that requires more hustle, patience, and ability to continuously grow and pivot than many people are comfortable with. You are in charge of everything, from the actual writing of your book to editing (I am begging you to outsource this task; never do your own editing. I learned that the hard way.), marketing, PR, distribution, ARCs, merch boxes, vending... It's all on you, baby. If that sounds like too much, that's okay, too! Traditional publishing is a great path for many authors. And I haven't even told you the best part yet: These days, you don't have to choose one or the other. Many highly successful authors are hybrid-published*, meaning they publish some projects independently and others with traditional publishing houses or small presses. The publishing industry today is more dynamic, open, and accessible than ever, and your options really are limitless. Think of it as a buffet of bookish delights, all equally delicious in their own way, and all up for grabs. *The terms hybrid-published or hybrid authors should not be confused with hybrid presses. These are publishing companies that offer traditional publishing services designed specifically for indie authors. Reedsy has a good blog article that goes into more detail about hybrid publishing, offers tips on choosing a hybrid press, and explains how to spot scammers posing as legitimate hybrid companies. 5) Make Money From Your Writing
Let me be crystal clear: writing is a job.
Writing is work, and it's hard work. Writers spend years of our limited time on Earth hunched over a keyboard in isolation, enduring back pain, eye strain, and repetitive stress injuries. We sometimes shave years off our lifespans due to inactivity, less-than-healthy dietary choices, disrupted sleep, and sometimes vices like smoking or drinking too much to take the edge off. We say no to things we'd really like to do because we know that time is our most precious asset, and we must guard our writing time with a flaming sword. We often need mental health support because of the emotional toll writing can take, especially when we're dealing with heavy topics. And we do it all because there is a voice inside us that will not let us quit. So, let me ask you: Why the flying fugnuggets shouldn't we get paid for it? I'm not only against the notion that writers and other artists should create "for art's sake" and that "it's not for the money"—I am deeply insulted by it. For those of us who choose to be working artists, it is indeed about the money. I expect to reap the fruits of my labor like any other professional in any other field. Yes, I write because I am spiritually bound to do it, but I do not spend time and expense and resources to sharpen my craft, build my author brand, grow an audience, get my books printed, create merch, travel to events, and all of the other invisible work that goes into being an author—on top of, you know, writing--simply for the satisfaction of doing it "for art's sake." Yes, it is okay to write for money, and you should. Don't let anyone convince you to stay poor for the sake of art. For a deeper dive into this very topic and into building a lucrative and sustainable career as an indie author, I highly recommend the book The Artisan Author by Johnny B. Truant. This was on our required reading list for my graduate program (Johnny was also a guest lecturer), and it is an invaluable guide to this business. Plus, Johnny is absolutely hilarious. 6) You're Not Just a Writer. You Are a Business Owner.
If you want to be a career author, I'm about to give you a hard pill to swallow:
You now have a business to run. It's something many writers balk at. We don't want to think of our precious books as mere commodities. We get into this profession to write, not market and network and manage the physical production of books and spend hours in social media hell and run our own websites and newsletters and all of the other unsexy work that goes on behind the scenes. But it's reality. Publishing, whether traditional or independent, is an industry. When you write a book, you are creating a product. Like any product, you have to find a way to sell it to the people who need it. And that requires business acumen and learning as much as you possibly can about how the industry works. I know that may sound cold and heartless, but I would do you a disservice to pretend otherwise. As one of my Western professors says, "If you're not making money from publishing, you don't have a business, you have a hobby." Which is perfectly fine if you want a hobby, but not so great if you want a career. Don't think you're off the hook if you go the traditional route, either. Today, the Big Five and even small presses expect their authors, even the megabestsellers, to work hard on their own time to build and maintain their author brands, engage with readers, and be proactive in getting the word out about their books. If you despair at the thought of writing as a business and adding the job title "entrepreneur" (I personally like the term "authorpreneur") to your metaphorical nametag, let me offer you a way to reframe it: Treating your writing as a business means that you take it seriously enough to invest in it. You aren't "selling out." You are doing the hard, real-world work of making your dreams come true, which is more than most people are willing or disciplined enough to do. And that matters. 7) Professors Don't Know Everything
I want to be clear that I'm not here to bash professors or academia as a whole. There are many wonderful, dedicated professors out there who are passionate about their disciplines and invested in helping their students succeed. I've had my share of less-than-stellar professors, and I've also had some truly amazing ones, all the way from community college to graduate school, some of whom I've kept in touch with and am lucky enough to call my friends now. These folks have transformed lives and represent the best of their profession, and deserve all the respect in the world.
But there's also a truth that no one tells you when you begin your academic journey: Professors got their jobs because they are experts in their field. That does not necessarily mean that they know how to teach. Becoming an expert in something is no small feat, but teaching is a specific skill that doesn't come naturally to everyone, and professors—whether adjunct or tenured—are no exception. Even if they do have a knack for conveying the material, it's not always with the intention of expanding their students' minds and encouraging them to think critically and creatively. Perhaps they have a strong ideological slant to their instruction, or they may simply be on an ego trip. Professors are human just like the rest of us, with vices and virtues and strengths and weaknesses. Respect their expertise, but treat their instructions with a critical eye—in your creative writing workshops and across all other areas of study. 8) Don't Judge Other People's Writing
Dragula is a horror-themed drag competition show hosted by the Boulet Brothers (think Ru Paul's Drag Race, only with monsters). It's one of my all-time favorite TV programs for its artistry, inclusivity, and absurdity. At the end of each floor show, when contestants line up for scoring and critique before the "extermination," the Boulet Brothers always begin with the same reminder: "We are not here to judge your drag. Drag is art, and art is subjective. What we are judging you on is your drag as it relates to this competition and the challenges we've put before you."
The same rule applies to creative writing, including fiction, poetry, and creative nonfiction. Writing is also an art and subjective. When critiquing another writer's work, the question you should be asking is not "Do I personally like this piece?" The question you should ask is, "What is this piece of writing trying to do, and does it succeed? Why, or why not?" If you gave your work to a critique partner and the only feedback you got was "I didn't like it," it wouldn't feel great, and it wouldn't be helpful, either. It's also a lazy response. If you can't constructively explain why you didn't like something, or why you think something's not working, it's probably a sign that you didn't give the piece enough attention. And you owe the person who is trusting you with their work more respect than that. 9) Actually, You DO Need to Keep Up With Trends (But Not Like That!)
I'm not suggesting that you start writing in a genre you don't care about because it's blowing up on BookTok or that you should jump on every social media fad to try to improve your reach. (What working adult with adult-y obligations has time for that?) You stay true to your vision, because in the end, that's how your readers will find you. Those readers will become your fans, and many of them will become your True Fans, and they will stay with you when a new genre takes the spotlight and when the memory of last week's Instagram challenge has already faded into the void.
What you do need to do is keep up with industry trends. This is true for all working professionals, regardless of your field or trade. We live in a rapidly changing world, and if you don't stay aware of the changes coming or already here, you will be left in the dust. Even just ten years ago, the idea of the Big 5 deliberately seeking out successful indie authors to bring into the fold would have been laughed out of the room. Mass market paperbacks once dominated the print market. Now, you might be able to find a modest collection at your local Half Price Books. When the first e-books were uploaded on floppy disks in the 90s, the publishing industry wrote them off as a niche fad for introverted computer nerds; in 2025, they accounted for one billion dollars in total book sales in the United States alone. (And now there's AI... but let's save that can of worms for another day.) We are not just writers—we are working professionals. That means that we must always keep our eyes open so we aren't blindsided as the publishing industry evolves. We need to know when to stay the course and when to pivot, much like a gazelle attempting to outrun a cheetah. If the romantic image of a writer typing away in a velvet armchair late at night with a giant cup of [libation of choice] at hand just disintegrated for you faster than Dorian Grey's portrait, I would lovingly suggest sticking to writing as a hobby or a side-hustle, at least for now. It takes a lot of grit and hustle to make it in this business, and keeping up with publishing industry trends is just part of the job. But if being a working author is your dream, the hard work is worth it. 10) Invest In Yourself
If you take nothing else away from this post, I want this to be what sticks: If you want to make it as a writer, investing in yourself is non-negotiable.
Read as many books on the craft as you can, especially in your genre(s). I always recommend getting your own copies to take notes and refer back to, but if that's not feasible, your local library is sure to have some great options. (You can even ask them to order books—and that helps you, the library, and other authors!) And don't forget the Libby app, of course. There are tons of blogs, YouTube channels, and podcasts for writers and publishers that you can learn from and enjoy for free. Attend writing workshops (genre-specific, if you can find one) as often as you can; some charge a fee, but many are free or offer a sliding scale. Find a writing group you can vibe with (see #3). I highly suggest purchasing a good writing software. Scrivener and ProWritingAid are popular options. I use Autocrit, and I sincerely wish I'd known about it years ago, because it has completely changed my writing process for the better. If a subscription isn't currently in the budget, set aside a little money as you are able until you can make the investment. Upfront yearly subscriptions are often a little cheaper than paying month-to-month, and you only have to make one payment a year, which I find easier to work into my annual savings and spending plan. If you have more wiggle room to work with, online masterclasses that deep dive into specific genres, the elements of craft, and the business side of writing can be invaluable tools for growing and expanding your knowledge and skills as an author. So can writing retreats, either in-person or online. Please note that your mileage will vary on all of this. I do not want any of my readers to go bankrupt for the sake of their art. If it's a choice between groceries for the week or a book on how to craft compelling dialogue, please feed yourself. If you're scraping together pennies for rent, please do not put an expensive masterclass or software subscription on your credit card. It's a lot easier to be creative and pursue your authorial aspirations when there is a roof over your head, food in the fridge, and the lights are on. I want you to achieve your wildest writing dreams, but I first and foremost want you housed and fed and in possession of an emergency fund. Especially in THIS economy. But I also want you to know that you and your writing are worth the investment. In this day and age, there are more opportunities to grow your author career than at any other time in literary history, with options for every budget and lifestyle. You go out there and find what works for you. And if you never stop treating yourself and your art as worth the effort, you might be surprised at how far you can go.
If you're a current creative writing student, did anything here resonate with you? If you've been in the trenches for a while, is there anything you would add? Drop a line and share with us! (But keep it classy.)
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