Stay connected + Parting Thoughts from your editors + Failing Better from Bernadette + Sharing Good News! Open and enjoy!
NEWSLETTER
November/December 2020, VOL. 15
Failing Better
By Bernadette Murphy
Back when rejections were mailed to writers, I kept a file of all of mine. I’d been told that, until I was able to wallpaper my office with rejections, I hadn’t yet paid my dues. I took pride in the many I’d acquired and when I started teaching other emerging writers at UCLA, I brought in the file and passed them around so we could all laugh and cry at how hard it is to be a writer.
I had two favorites:
When I decided I was ready to start submitting my work to literary magazines, I sent off the very first one – a poem – to The New Yorker. Of course, their response, printed on a fancy sheet of fawn-colored 5x7 notepaper, was a non-acceptance. I taped it up at eye level next to where I wrote and saw it as a badge of honor. Once The New Yorker had rejected me, no one could touch me.
The most egregious rejection was from a glossy magazine to which I’d submitted a personal essay, back in the day when you had to go to a bookstore, newsstand, or library to look up names and addresses on the masthead. I held my breath as the weeks went by, waiting for the response. The rejection was a form letter that had been duplicated so many times, it had black splotches all over it. For the particular duplication I held in my hand, the intern hadn’t bothered to make sure it was centered on the copy machine paten. The letter had been copied off-center, diagonally. At least half the text was missing. For all my hard work, that’s what came back. But sharing it with the other writers gave us all a chance to laugh.
Being a writer is a calling that asks us to embrace and become skilled with two very different sides of ourselves. When composing, we have to tap into our deepest, most vulnerable selves, to be soft, open and observant, almost as if our skin has been peeled back, so sensitive so that a tiny shift in wind is felt by every nerve in our bodies. That’s where good prose and verse come from. And then, when we’re ready to send the work out, we need to be armored and hard, as cast-iron as an armadillo, as persistent as a honey badger, so bullheaded that nothing’s going to stop us. It’s the most contradictory set of skills, and yet, I can’t see another way; we have to work at improving our abilities to do both.
I played a writer’s affirmation cassette tape whenever I was in my car, back in the day. “It’s okay with me if my writing makes me rich” always cracked me up. Still does. The one that stuck though, spoke to being turned down over and over. “Every rejection brings me one step closer to success.” For all the triteness of that tape, there was wisdom in that statement.
Gather your rejections. Share them with your peers. Wallpaper your office. Laugh and celebrate that you did the work. That’s where the real “being a writer” thing occurs. Did you write today? You’re a writer. Accept it. And then dust yourself off and send the pieces out again. And again and again. Forever, amen.*
* with apologies to George Saunders
Parting Thoughts From Your Editors
Leah and Raquel on the first night of our first residency, January 2019
Raquel and Leah on our first night in Havana, January 2020
A Community of Writers
by Raquel Levitt
Some may think it silly, but applying to an MFA program in New England was one of the gutsiest things this Texas girl has ever done. I’ve always been shy and insecure about everything, but when a writer friend encouraged me to become part of an MFA writing community, I decided I would take that advice.
Fast forward two years, and I’m on the cusp of graduating. The time went so quickly, yet so many wonderful things have happened. I remember emailing that friend during the end of my first residency, telling him just how happy I was to be with poets and writers; I actually said I felt “safe” being in their midst. For someone with severe anxiety, to feel that and to admit it, was huge.
At the risk of sounding even more dramatic, (and I don’t care if I do,) my time in The Newport MFA program has been a dream. I am so incredibly grateful to Ann and Jen, the talented and helpful faculty, my mentors, and all of my fellow cohorts, (especially my heart-sister Leah), who made me feel I was worthy to be here. The time I spent with all of you in Newport and Cuba and online has made me a better writer with a stronger self-image, and I am so thankful for a community to call my own.
A Walk Next Door
By Leah DeCesare
A walk next door changed my life. Twenty-five months ago, my neighbor asked me over to tell me about a project-based event job at Bryant University. As we wrapped up that conversation, she asked if I’d heard about the new MFA program that Ann Hood had started. It was only months old and I hadn’t heard despite my inbox overflowing with subscriptions to writerly things.
For years, I’d often thought of pursuing an MFA. I’d research a bit at a conference or online but I'd put it off, waiting for the kids to be done with college before we added the expense. But that November day, after leaving my neighbor’s house, without going any further than the Salve Regina website, I applied to the Newport MFA.
Almost exactly two years ago to the day, I received that festive acceptance letter full of virtual confetti—I was in, now what? Instead of waiting, I decided to go back to school at the same time as we had one kid in college and one about to start. (Where’s my facepalm emoji?)
And so, I began my orientation at Bryant on January 3, 2019 and my MFA at Salve on January 4th. I took that leap and it has been beyond worth it. As I look back from December 2020 to December 2018, I am thankful for my time in the early moments of the Newport MFA—a program that is already esteemed and admired. I am full of gratitude and joy.
Three-tuitions-all-at-once later, I’m richer. I’m rich with priceless friendships, an irreplaceable education, cherished critique partners. I feel wealthy with support and confidence in my work.
Today, I walked next door to deliver a letter to my friend. I thanked her for the abundance she brought to my life with just one chat in her kitchen.
Help Wanted
Call for New Editors
It's time to pass the newsletter editor baton.
Please reach out to Jen if you're interested.
Sacred Objects, Sacred Spaces
“A room without books is like a body without a soul.” –Cicero
Marissa Gallerani's writing space “My library is an archive of longings.”—Susan Sontag
Brag Sheet
A selection of The Newport MFA student publications over the past months.
Brooks Cobb was featured in the November issue of Envie! Magazine.
Fernando Linhares’s conference paper, “Three Titans (Otto Maduro), symbolism, and Newark,” has been accepted as part of the panel: Displacement, Identities and the Reclaiming of Latinx Voices into the Track: Literature Studies for the LASA2021 Virtual Congress: Crisis global, desigualdades y centralidad de la vida taking place May 26 - 29, 2021.
teaching other emerging writers at UCLA, I brought in the file and passed them around so we could all laugh and cry at how hard it is to be a writer.
