Archive for February, 2013

advance praise for Poyer’s new book

February 27, 2013

David Poyer is at it again with a new book sure to thrill and entertain. The Whiteness of the Whale is available for pre-order now and has received some wonderful advance praise that should motivate readers to get in line for a hot-off-the-press copy.

Publishers Weekly posted this review of David Poyer’s forthcoming novel, The Whiteness of the Whale. In what PW calls “a riveting modern-day tale of high-seas Antarctic adventure,” the review goes on to praise the book, saying: “Poyer’s intense, fast-paced prose creates palpable suspense….”

Kirkus Reviews also had great stuff to say about The Whiteness of the Whale: “Poyer’s thriller takes fans on a frightening ride that will have them reaching for their Dramamine…. Poyer spent a great deal of his life on the ocean, and it shows. This is a fine thriller.”  Read the full review here.

Library Journal said Poyer’s intricate experience on the subject matter “should be rousing good fun for thriller fans.”

And, the Feb 15 issue of Booklist has this to say: “It’s the crew members who propel the story, the author exploring their hidden pasts, their personal agendas, and the relationships that spring up among them. Some readers might feel Poyer goes a bit far—the book takes a very dark turn about two-thirds of the way through that might stretch credibility a little—but the story is undeniably powerful.”  Find more here.


The Whiteness of the Whale

David Poyer

St. Martin’s Press

$26.99 (336p)

ISBN 978-1-2500-2056-7

Available April 2013

Pre-order on amazon

Media & Review Copies: Contact Joseph Rinaldi from the St. Martin’s publicity department.



Book Description

An antiwhaling expedition to the freezing Antarctic takes a violent turn in this powerful novel from bestselling author and sailor David Poyer.

After a tragic accident maims her laboratory assistant, Dr. Sara Pollard’s career as a primate behaviorist lies in ruins. With nothing left to lose, Pollard – descendant of a Nantucket captain whose ship was sunk by a rogue whale – accepts an offer to join anti-whaling activists on a round-the-world racing yacht as the resident scientist. The plan is to sail from Argentina to the stormy Antarctic Sea.  There they’ll shadow, harass, and expose the Japanese fleet, which continues to kill and process endangered whales in internationally-declared sanctuaries.

But everyone aboard Black Anemone has a secret, or something to live down.  Her crew—including a beautiful but narcissistic film celebrity, an Afghan War veteran in search of the buzz of combat, and an enigmatic, obsessive captain—will confront hostile whalers, brutal weather, dangerous ice, near-mutiny, and romantic conflict.  But no one aboard is prepared for what Nature herself has in store . . . when they’re targeted by a massive creature with a murderous agenda of its own.

Filled with violence, beauty, and magical evocations of life in the most remote waters on Earth, The Whiteness of the Whale is a powerful adventure by a master novelist.

Big News & Reviews for Thom Ward

February 26, 2013
Thom Ward

Thom Ward

Advisory Board member Thom Ward continues to shine with his recent publication, Etcetera’s Mistress (Accents Publishing).

Etcetera’s Mistress was recently reviewed by George Wallace in BigCityLit. Wallace is author of nineteen chapbooks of poetry and the editor of Poetrybay, Poetryvlog and other publications. Ward’s skill with the prose poem is praised by Wallace, who says it is “something more than cleverness, but rather something to be celebrated.” See the full review here.

Ward also just came back from a stellar event at Georgia Tech’s McEver Poetry reading series at Kress Auditorium in downtown Atlanta. Also included in the event were Thomas Lux, Laura Newbern, and Dan Veach. The event drew in more than three hundred people and an AV of the event is available online here.etceteras_mistress

Thom Ward, mentor and advisory board member of the Wilkes MA/MFA creative writing programs, is also the author of Small Boat with Oars of Different Size, The Matter of the Casket, and Various Orbits.

Etcetera’s Mistress is available from Accents Publishing and on Amazon.

The book will also be available at the AWP conference in Boston, Mar 6-9. Accents Publishing will be at table N-18 and Thom Ward will be stopping by to meet readers and sign books!

On Writing: Chris Campion guest essay

February 20, 2013

Back to the Start: Reclaiming Your Voice

and Confidence in Writing

by Chris Campion

Chris Campion

Chris Campion

Some time ago, I couldn’t stand the sight of anything I was writing. I’d turn out paragraphs, even pages, only to delete nearly everything without hesitation or remorse. I’d stare at the blank computer screen for an eternity, and after I’d mustered some kind of confidence and managed to write maybe a sentence, I’d edit it to death, and then delete even that. I just couldn’t seem to get started. And when I finally got some kind of workable material, I wasn’t able to finish it. My writing desk was littered with openings and random scenes that led nowhere. And they weren’t even darlings—things I loved and didn’t want to murder—they were more like failed science experiments that yielded no gain.

Nothing I was writing looked or sounded right. Nothing in my voice moved me. And none of my characters-in-progress held my interest for more than two seconds. I wanted to write but couldn’t. I was completely stuck, and I soon fell into a kind of depression since I was no longer able to do what I loved.

Not to be outdone by, well, myself, I went back and scoured my bookshelves for inspiration and fresh approaches.I tried Cormac McCarthy’s Biblically-voiced run-on sentences and larger-than-life similes; I raised the bar on my diction and attempted Jonathan Franzen’s The New Yorker-style magniloquent prose and modern cynicism; I tried Raymond Carver’s über-bare bones writing and slice-of-life issues of domesticity. Thinking that maybe I was writing in a far-too-limited point of view, I tried grandiose omniscience like that of Tolstoy, Ayn Rand, and Thomas Wolfe. Of course, I tried my hand at creating pulse-pounding plots like that of James Patterson, Dan Brown, and John Grisham. Finally, I thought that perhaps I should produce something completely off-the-hook and redefining like James Joyce’s Finnegans Wake.

But, alas, all the reading and mimicking I’d hoped would rejuvenate me had only pulled me deeper into my own pit of artistic malaise. It seemed that every writer I was reading just had this natural ability to construct perfect sentences and stories that would knock me on my ass. Whatever it was they had—that je ne sais quoi—I sure as hell didn’t have it.

This soon brought on fears of becoming a coffee-shop lizard, quoting passages from novels and telling everyone how I “used to write.” Or bettermystery man yet, a Dostoyevsky-looking flaneur in heavy beard and long pea coat, wandering the streets and trying to figure where my mind had gone; everyone passing me and seeing the irreversible battle damage from attempting to be a writer. Okay, maybe I’m getting a little carried away here, but I was pretty upset.

Anyway, feeling like I had nowhere else to turn, I went back to my old files and (you may want to cover your eyes for this) read the first few short stories I’d ever written. Yes, it was as painful as you can imagine. Things like tense consistency, point of view, show and don’t tell, punctuation, and so forth were pretty much nonexistent. It was one step shy of being the ramblings of a lunatic; and I hope I’ve learned a thing or two since then. But, I was noticing that I had almost no inhibitions on what I wrote. It seemed like, at the time, I was fearless and completely captivated with writing. It’d seemed raw, untamed, and well … moi.

It was as if each noun, pronoun, verb, adjective, adverb and so on was a gorgeous lady at some extravagant ball. And the ladies put up no refusal to dance with me for as long as I’d wished. Every dance—every word written down—made me evermore in love with creating art from words. And I remembered further that my urge to read and revise pieces had been unquenchable. I think it was because I was never second-guessing myself or my voice. More specifically, I had great confidence (as much as I could have possessed at the time) in who I was, what I was going to write, and how I was going to write.

Thankfully, after this uncomfortable yet necessary act of rereading my old stuff, something struck my prima donna ego, and told me how I’d lost my edge: I was trying too hard to write like everyone else. I’d forgotten I had a unique voice and perspective of the world. And those are the most powerful and, arguably, most important things a writer can possess. Of course, you have to study and practice your craft; you can’t write any old thing and expect it to be gold just because your muse was really cooking that day. And you can’t put on the blinders and say to yourself: I don’t need advice, I know everything. But I do believe you have to keep a raw side—an untamed side that isn’t afraid to go beyond your self-placed artistic constructs for the sake of the story. A side that’s not afraid to lose yourself to be yourself.

In other words, too much studying and overanalyzing your approach, too much trying to incorporate learned techniques can actually not be a good thing. Asking yourself what this writer or that writer will think or whether this craft book will nod its head to your scribbling will always leave you questioning your work.

Therefore, I studied my old prose—amateur errors aside—and retaught what it was that seemed very natural, what glided like a stick of butter on a warm frying pan. Honestly, I can’t completely tell you what you should look for; it’s a very personal thing. But you’ll know it when you see it. I can tell you it usually sings like a song you’ve always wanted to hear, it excites you, makes you once again lose yourself just like the first time you had written it. There should be a sense of belief and wonder. There should be something in it that will make you feel empowered again and fired-up to write.

If you can’t find your old stories, you can try a kind of express approach by looking at some of your favorite Facebook posts. They’re usually the ones you’re most proud of, the ones that really display your voice and beliefs, and will probably have multiple “likes” and comments. You can go back and look at your favorite text messages (preferably not the drunk ones). You can also reclaim your confidence and hone your voice by starting a blog and write for no one but yourself. Keep in mind you don’t have to publish anything. You can find your old journals and reread the entries in which it looked as if it were your last day on earth, and you were going to write until the end.

It really doesn’t matter where you may have to go back and find it, just as long as you do. And to capitalize on a teachable moment here: try and save everything you write. Your taste will change over time, and what may have seemed like bunk last week could possibly be gold this week. You will constantly grow as a reader and a writer, and you need time to let your material congeal like a hot casserole pulled from the oven. It will taste different once cooled. So no need to immediately bite in only to burn your tongue.

En route, having gone back to the start, I felt the curse slowly lifted. Once again, I fell back in love with writing and had no trouble (mostly) putting words to the page. And when that annoying, overly-critical mental editor started yapping about how much I sucked compared to others and how I should just quit while I was ahead, I simply treated him like a telemarketer, hung up, and got back to work without any kind of second-guessing or remorse.

white men cant jumpYou might ask if all that reading and experimenting with other authors was for naught. I’d say no and yes. No, in the sense that you should experience other authors and see what makes their prose shine (or not shine). Yes, in the sense that the only person who you can write like—and should be writing like—is yourself. I read because it puts me in the proverbial “zone” that the movie White Men Can’t Jump so shamelessly taught the world back in 1992. It also builds my vocab, reinforces grammar and punctuation (which I will never profess to be a master at), makes me a better writer, and constantly opens my eyes to other approaches. I think Stephen King said it best in his book On Writing: “It’s all on the table.” And I’ll say it again: Don’t stop reading everything you can get your hands on. Consider reading as training for a UFC fight. Okay, less intensely stated, like a musician listening to music to become a more well-rounded musician and appreciator of music.

Now, as I look back on that lack-of-confidence spell or depression (or whatever we’ll call it), I believe I had suffered from some mutated form of writer’s block. I say this because at the time I had plenty of ideas stewing. Words were constantly flowing through my brain. My nose was always planted in a book. But, again, everything I wrote would soon be destroyed. I did find some of that material that had survived, and it wasn’t that bad. Like I said before, there’s a very personal but unmistakable quality that screams, “That’s a keeper! Don’t delete that! We’re on to something!”

A part of me wants to kick my own ass. How could things have gotten that bad? I guess I can’t blame myself too much. Before I had even stepped into day one of my MA, I had to read three books about writing: On Writing, Becoming a Writer, and Writing Down the Bones. Once class began, we jumped right into “workshopping” in which we ripped each others’ pieces apart like hungry dogs; we heard from panels of published authors and agents whose advice and approach to writing varied like the spectrum of species in the animal kingdom. Once we “pitched” to countless writers and realized how little we knew, we then picked our mentor and would go on to survive at least a year’s worth of artistic hazing, self-doubt, reevaluating, and the occasional I-am-awesome moment that lasted about four seconds because it was replaced by the I-still-suck moment. Okay, I’m once again being too dramatic. Actually the mentor experience was amazing. It was the meat and potatoes of the stephen-king-on-writingcourse. And I loved the personal attention and opportunity to finally begin to understand writing, as well as developing a newfound respect for my art. Honestly my mentor was probably the only one in my corner who really understood what I was going through. But all that never made writing any easier. In fact, it actually got harder because more was required of me.

Keep in mind the hurdles I’ve just mentioned are within the safe confines of an academic setting. As we all know, the world outside: rejections, querying agents, and the I-don’t-read-books discussions with people can be equally as harsh and as lonely to cope with.

Having said and experienced all this, it’s no wonder I had a moment where I was afraid to give birth to even a single sentence without having some kind of mental Cronus gobble it up like one of his newborn children. It’s no wonder I had a phase where that me in my writing no longer seemed to be important or even valuable to myself. But I am not the kind of person who goes around blaming everybody for my hang ups. I guess I’m kind of existentialist in that I believe it’s always my decision who and what I choose to be. However, I think I’m safe in saying that there are many snares and dark alleys that can side track a newbie writer and make them feel like it’s not worth it anymore. I think we all know how brave and lone-wolfish we’ve had to become because we are writers.

In the end, I believe the whole experience—this loss of confidence in myself—was a necessary evil. I had to lose what I didn’t even know I had in order to fully appreciate, cherish, and use it. Thankfully I was allowed to do that, because writing is different from losing something in the real world. Rarely can you reclaim what you once had in your short time on this earth. Fortunately, in your writing life, you can go back at any time and reclaim your creativity and make it even better than before. I believe writing can rejuvenate us like that.

And so, if you ever find yourself doubtful or feeling like what you are writing is horrible and not worth it, then go back to the start and find the material in which you were burning to write and let it ignite you once again. Although your ability as a writer will have no doubt improved since then, those pieces should have some kind of unique quality that will reset your urge to chain yourself to a desk and squeeze that story out as if your life depended on it. And once you reclaim that passion and confidence in your voice and jonesing to write, then guard it. I had lost mine and I barely knew how it had happened. This doesn’t mean that you should be closed-minded as a student of writing (I feel like I’ve hardly scratched the surface in terms of getting “decent”), but you should learn to sift through the “advice” and “suggestions” and “comments” and pick out what will truly help and what will not. And you shouldn’t be afraid to stand your ground if you feel that what you have written truly holds up. Because, again, writing (in my opinion) is largely subjective; the only (let’s say) “gauge” should be whether it’s effective or not. And still, you won’t please everyone, so make sure you are at least pleasing yourself. I think that’s all writing should truly be about. If you’re doing it just to make money, there are so much easier ways. I, for one, will not be quitting my day job anytime soon. But I suppose my day job keeps me running back to my books and keyboard.

So, to wrap it all up, guard your voice and guard your passion. And should you lose it, remember to go back to the start, or find something that reminds you of how much you love or used to love writing—whatever it is. I believe once a writer always a writer. And be careful of too much advice. I’m a hypocrite in that my desk is lined with books on craft, grammar, and literary philosophy. My Facebook has post after post from famous writers on technique, purpose, and what is effective writing. And I will always try and get someone else’s opinion on a piece that I’m working on. But I always try to guard the side of me that will truly know whether it passes or not. I hope that if I lose that side, I’ll now know where to find it. I pray that you will never lose your confidence in your voice and passion. It’s a very soul-crushing experience. However, should it happen, I hope this essay will help you find your way back.

Chris Campion has a MA in creative writing from Wilkes University. His fiction can be found at and East Meets West, American Writers Journal. He is currently an MFA candidate at Wilkes.

The Next Big Thing: Philip Brady

February 18, 2013

February 18, 2013

Philip Brady: “The Next Big Thing” Blog Hop

 “The Next Big Thing” is a blog hop in which authors around the world share what they’re working on by responding to ten questions. Wilkes faculty member Philip Brady responds to questions below. He was invited by Carol Moldaw, whose Next Big Thing post can be found here


Phil Brady

Phil Brady

What is your working title of your book?

To Banquet with the Worthy Ethiopians: a memoir of life before the alphabet.

Where did the idea come from for the book?

The phrase comes from Homer. It appears in both the Iliad and the Odyssey, and refers to the Gods’ habit of retreating from human affairs in times of crisis. But the idea for a long poem came in the Fall of 2010 after major heart surgery. The recuperation gave me months of time off from teaching and directing Etruscan Press and the YSU Poetry Center. Months off from real life of any kind, really. It also changed my relationship to my body. I was weak, dreamy. In many ways, I became a boy again. It was just like the endless afternoons I spent rocking in front of the hi fi listening to Irish music. I lived in Queens, and understood none of it. It was a way of sailing from the world—reveling in the higher nonsense; finding in rhythm a charm against time’s surge. Amidst the violent conflicts of boyhood, it was my way of banqueting with the Ethiopians. During the months recovering from surgery, sitting in my rocker in front of the fire, I felt again like that boy, rocking and chanting.  And when I reviewed the many pages of the prose memoir I’d been struggling to write, they seemed so….prolix; prosaic; so slow and dense and stolid. After having been, briefly, dead, who’d care about all that stuff?  And I remembered a summer in camp when I was twelve, trying and failing to read a prose translation of the Iliad by W.H.D. Rouse. Only now do I realize that it was the prose, not the story, that was difficult. And so I started to transpose my own prosy life into another key. 

What genre does your book fall under?

The book is composed from questions about genre. Are genres sets of conventions and practices? Are they traditions? Or do they emerge from various entwined impulses: to sing, to yarn, to explain, to remember, to marvel? Homer and the works that emerge from the oral tradition do all these things. To Banquet with the Worthy Ethiopians aspires to that condition. It’s a long poem, and a novel-in-verse, and a memoir-in-myth. Timothy Findley puts it best. “I didn’t know quite how to tell this story,” he writes, “until I realized that if I were Homer, I’d have recognized that it isn’t just the story of men and women, but of men and women and the gods to whom they are obedient, and told best through the evocation of icons. So what I must do is transpose this story, which is history, into another key, which is mythology.”

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

There have been great movies about the Iliad and Odyssey. Some of my favorites are Ulysees with Kirk Douglas, Troy with Brad Pitt (mentioned in my poem), and Brother Where Art Thou with George Clooney. And of course various adaptations abound.  But I remain an unrepentant John Wayne fan, pilgrim.

What is the synopsis of your book?

The tale takes place at the border between myth and time, between childhood and adulthood, between orality and literature. Following a heart attack, an aging ‘scrivener’ broods on a list folded in a copy of the Iliad. Item 265 reads simply, “Thersites,” a foot soldier whining to go home.  The scrivener recalls the summer he first encountered the Iliad. Though overwhelmed by W.H.D. Rouse’s turgid prose, he gleaned enough to realize that the Trojan War, with all its violence and intrigue, was being waged on a smaller scale at his summer camp.

To Banquet with the Worthy Ethiopians blends Homer’s discovery of the alphabet with a man’s recovery and a boy’s struggle to glimpse the adult world through the prism of an ancient epic. As the story is transposed from history into myth, it ripples from Ithaca to Queens, passing through a murder investigation, a hacked computer, an all-star poetry workshop, a plot to relocate Troy, and a committee charged with writing a sequel to the Iliad.  While it is fantastical and whimsical, this is a deeply serious story about the difficulty of nurturing our personal myths in a world bound in time.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

I’m sending it around to all the usual suspects. It won’t be self published, nor will it appear from Etruscan, where I am the Executive Director. But as a publisher, I hope to be in a good position to work with whomever decides to publish it.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

Once I decided to write verse instead of prose, it came very quickly—eighteen chapters in as many months. In the beginning I was “translating” as much as writing—working from my own prose pony. I learned that the most telling difference between prose and poetry is pace. Verse moves at great speed, grounded only by a barely audible thrum. It illuminates without revealing—lightning flashing on a dark landscape.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

Some of the books that have influenced me are Christopher Logue’s War Music,  Zachary Mason’s The Lost Books of the Odyssey,  David Malouf’s Ransom, Margaret Atwood’s The Penelopiad, Alfred Lord’s The Singer of Tales, Julian James The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bi-Cameral Mind, Eric Havelock’s Preface to Plato, H.L.Hix’s As Much As, If Not More Than, William Heyen’s Crazy Horse in Stillness, Walter Ong’s Orality and Literacy, Leonard Schlain’s The Alphabet vs. the Goddess, and Jonathan Shay’s Achilles in Vietnam and Odysseus in America.

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

I didn’t write the book. I composed it. The writing part is merely transcription, which I need to do because my memory isn’t strong enough to hold it all in. But now I have it. I compose and am composed, as I walk, or drive, or shower, or am pulled into the dark tube of an MRI.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

The book aspires to turn readers into listeners. In the spirit of the oral tradition which provides its impetus, a performance of the entire work is being filmed at Youngstown State University. Clips from this rendition can be found at….


Philip Brady is a poet, instructor, and publisher. Learn more at his website:

The 2013 Kenyon Review Short Fiction Contest

February 13, 2013


The 2013 Kenyon Review Short Fiction Contest

Submissions Accepted From February 1st-28th!

The contest is open to all writers who have not yet published a book of fiction. Submissions must be 1200 words or fewer. There is no entry fee.

The Kenyon Review will publish the winning short story in the Winter 2014 issue, and the author will be awarded a scholarship to attend the 2013 Writers Workshop, June 15th-22nd, in Gambier, Ohio. Additional info on the Writers Workshop is available here.

Katharine Weber, critically-acclaimed author of five novels, including Triangle and True Confections, will be the final judge.

Click here for the submission guidelines.

Wilkes featured in Low-Res MFA Handbook

February 6, 2013

wilkes-university-grad-logoDid you know the Wilkes Creative Writing MA/MFA programs are featured in a book that focuses exclusively on low-residency writing programs?

The Low-Residency MFA Handbook: A Guide for Prospective Creative Writing Students (Continuum/Bloomsbury, 2011), by Lori A. May, includes more than 150 interviews with program directors, faculty, current students, and alumni from 49 different low-res programs.

Several voices represent the Wilkes program:

  • In Chapter 6: The Programs, six pages are dedicated to the programs at Wilkes. Interviewees include Bonnie Culver, J. Michael Lennon, Phil Brady, Kaylie Jones, Amye Archer, Brian Fanelli, and James Warner;
  • In Chapter 5: Funding, Bonnie Culver discusses the incredible assistantships and scholarships available at Wilkes;
  • In Chapter 8: Non-Residency Semesters, Jim Warner talks about working with a mentor online and how to manage time and organize one’s writing life.
The Low-Residency MFA Handbook

The Low-Residency MFA Handbook

Just a few days ago, alum Gale Martin interviewed Handbook author Lori A. May on the Scrivengale website.

Wilkes alum Amye Archer interviewed Lori about low-res programs back in 2011. Read the Q&A here.

Unlike other creative writing resources, The Low-Residency MFA Handbook focuses specifically on low-residency programs and aims to share useful tips and advice for low-res students. Wilkes is prominently featured throughout the book and, as such, offers an ‘insider look’ into what our program has to offer prospective students.

If you’re near campus, you can visit the Creative Writing office where a few copies of The Low-Residency MFA Handbook are on the bookshelf.  There is also a free preview of The Low-Residency MFA Handbook on Amazon.

About the Book

The Low-Residency MFA Handbook: A Guide for Prospective Creative Writing Students (Continuum/Bloomsbury, 2011)
by Lori A. May
ISBN 978-1-4411984-4-0

Available @ Amazon, on Kindle, at Barnes & Noble, and @ Bloomsbury

Free preview on Amazon

More about the book and author at

From the back cover: The Low-Residency MFA Handbook offers prospective graduate students an in-depth preview of low-residency creative writing MFA programs. Interviews with program directors, faculty, alumni, and current students answer many questions prospective graduates have, including: What happens during the non-residency semester? What are the residencies like? What community is established between faculty and fellow students? The guide also considers program structures, funding, and unique opportunities that extend beyond the degree. 


Chapter 1: An Introduction to Low-Residency MFAs
Chapter 2: Is the Low-Residency Model Right for Me?
Chapter 3: The Selection Process
Chapter 4: The Application Process
Chapter 5: Funding
Chapter 6: The Programs
Chapter 7: The Residency Experience
Chapter 8: Non-Residency Semesters
Chapter 9: Pedagogical Preparation
Chapter 10: Learning from Experience
Chapter 11: Life After the MFA
Chapter 12: AWP Membership & Services
Appendix A: Extended Interviews
Appendix B: Quick Reference
Appendix C: Additional Resources

 What People Are Saying

 “The Low-Residency MFA Handbook is a must for anyone trying to push their creative writing educational credentials to the next level.”   – Midwest Book Review

“What an invaluable handbook! Lori A. May has done her research, knows her stuff, and, what’s best, lets the programs speak for themselves through her extensive interviews. There’s a chorus of quotes from faculty, students, and graduates in The Low-Residency MFA Handbook. Anyone making the decision to apply for an MFA should consult this wise guide. May’s clarity and authority make it a gold standard.”   – Molly Peacock, author of The Second Blush

The Low-Residency MFA Handbook is an important book, not only for prospective students, but for program faculty and administrators as well. This guide will prove invaluable for students preparing to apply for low-residency MFA programs and will inform them of what to expect once they gain acceptance. The low-residency MFA in creative writing is increasingly popular, and there has been a lack of resources available to students, faculty and administrators. The Low-Residency MFA Handbook fills that void.”   – Derick Burleson, author of Melt

More Information

Visit or Amazon for more info.