The problem with being 22

This isn’t some rant about what a typical 22-year-old might complain about. It’s about my potential Master’s. I had a conference call with the director of the program and some other potential students last night and it went really well. It sounds like what I want from my Master’s and the program as a whole is committed to making your writing better. 

The only problem is that a lot of the people who are applying are averaging in their mid thirties. There was no one else on the call who was my age. The director mentioned that they don’t often accept people who are my age because they don’t think they will take the program seriously. I understand that because there probably aren’t a great deal of people my age who are willing to get a degree in writing fiction. That may not be the case for all, but I think that it is a hobby for some more than a profession. I think that’s the kind of people they don’t want to accept because it won’t fit either side well. It does make a lot of sense, but I know that isn’t me so I’m frustrated because I now have to struggle to show them that despite my age I can handle the work load. 

I’m still going to apply and hope for the best, but I’m certainly not going to apply thinking that I’ll stun them with my glorious prose and they’ll have no choice but to accept me. I’m going in level headed knowing that it’s going to be a fight to get in, and honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Ok, rant done. I hope you are having a wonderful Tuesday afternoon, dear readers.

Happy Reading.

Leave a Reply