10 Marketable Skills a Creative Writing Degree Will Give You
“Why did I decide to be a writer?” As I re-enter the job market, I ask myself this question with each new cover letter, trying to explain why someone should hire a person with my skillset. Immediate fame and glory, I know, were never my expectations. Most of us do not leave an MFA program believing we are the next Zadie Smith. Still, we know our talents and hard work have amounted to more than a pretty collection of stories and poems. We writers are resourceful. Sometimes, however, we need to be reminded of that fact. If this is the case for you, here are ten very practical skills you probably gained sitting around a workshop table:
Writing and editing (to state the obvious)
A degree in creative writing means you know how to…well…write. You know how to craft a story to win a grant, pitch an idea, or publish that company newsletter. There are countless other applications, of course: I cannot remember the last job ad I read which didn’t list “strong written communication skills” as one of the first requirements. I debated giving “editing” its own bullet point, but editing is one shade of writing, like canary is to yellow. Many poets argue that writing truly happens in the revision process.
Public speaking
This may be the most debatable item on the list: there’s a (somewhat true) opinion that writers are shy and reclusive, that speaking engagements terrify us. I’m not shy. However, some of the most commanding speakers I’ve ever seen are. Watch the ever-humble and soft-spoken Yusef Komunyakaa read his signature poem, “Facing It.” You will see the power of someone who knows the depths of language. I’d read this poem a hundred times but only when I heard it live was I brought to tears. Many writers read their deeply personal work before a live audience. They understand a crowd’s energy, where to show emotion, and how to control their breath, rhythm and tone.
Attention to detail
Poets and writers know the importance of small details. We read and edit pages and pages of work every week. Then we read them again. Learning how to edit and proofread means learning how to quickly catch visual and aural oddities — be they errors or charming quirks that entice a reader.
Presentation
Poets especially know about presentation. Whether you’re primarily a performance poet or a “page” poet (or simply refuse to be defined), you understand pacing. You understand that the space between two words can be the difference between a solid poem and a great one. You understand how to apply that mindset to anything with an audience.
An eye for trends
When that innocuous blue scarf shows up repeatedly in a story, don’t be shocked if it turns out to be a murder weapon at the end. A good fiction writer won’t be. When a poet hears repetition and rhyme every day, (s)he starts to notice language patterns everywhere. The same goes for actions and behaviours in a narrative. Take this skill and apply it to the facts or figures at your job.
An understanding of people
Recently, circulating studies have shown what writers have known for years: reading fiction fosters empathy. When you read about the emotions and experiences of someone who seems unlike you, you start to understand humanity a little more. Your relationship to others is valuable in any service industry. How else can you understand customer needs? The same applies for poetry: poets will find the human emotions in anyone from a murderous dictator to an onion. If you think reading another’s perspective helps, just imagine writing from it.
An analytical mind
Hours and hours of critical reading, of searching for symbolism, of analyzing word choice will give that to a person. That’s why so many lawyers start as English majors.
Fostering idea exchange
Something incredible happens in a writing workshop: you get a dozen perspectives on a handful of words. You feed off of others’ energy. You lead them to new ideas and points of view. Also, you learn how to listen. Companies are founded on ideas, but new initiatives and perspectives are what keep them alive.
Patience and prioritizing
Poring over drafts and drafts of a manuscript, you gain the mental fortitude to work through a difficult project. However, you also learn when something is truly worth your time. There are endless stories to read and write so you learn to pour your energy into the right places. This leads me to my last point:
Sharper instincts
In writing workshops, you learn quickly how to tell if a piece is “going somewhere.” Maybe it’s just not time to write this poem. Maybe you need to restart that story from scratch. Or maybe things are getting difficult because you’re on the right track. Only you can know. There’s no empirical answer. Good writing comes down to trusting yourself. I cannot tell you the number of times I have placed a detail in a poem simply because it “felt right” only to have my classmates tell me to delete it. Then, as I revise, I see that the detail is not what needs changing. I revise the poem, keep the detail, and suddenly people are telling me how crucial that detail is. You have to learn when to listen and when to say “yes” to yourself in a room full of “no’s.” What people want isn’t always what’s best.
There are many other skills we can learn from the microcosm that is a Creative Writing program. The next time you ask yourself why you didn’t choose a more “marketable” profession, go back to those (MFA sharpened) instincts and remember the feeling you had when you made your choice. If that doesn’t work, then you show yourself this list.
Daria-Ann Martineau was born and raised in Trinidad and Tobago. She holds a BA in speech and hearing science as well as an MFA in poetry from New York University. Her work has appeared in journals and on websites such as Narrative, Kinfolks Quarterly and ForHarriet.com among others. Follow her on twitter at @caribbeancurly
