This is an email I wrote to Stephany of Stephany Writes. We have been conversing back and forth for weeks now, and she has come to be a very special friend to me. As this letter more or less sums up the goings on of my life recently, I felt it would be relevant for my blog and thought you might like to read this particular response to an email she sent me yesterday. It is a bit lengthy, but if you can hang in there, I encourage the read.
Dear Stephany,
As I have just finished reading Dodie Smith’s I Capture the Castle, I am feeling quite British at the moment. That’s on top of having restarted the Harry Potter series, the fifth one of which I finished before reading Castle. So, I’m feeling particularly British all the time now. I even find my voice going into fits of English accents randomly as I talk. Next, I should probably read something American to remember who I am. I am not living in the ruins of a crumbling Victorian castle, nor am I doing any “foolish wand-waving or uttering silly incantations” like I so wish I was doing at the moment, though sans blowing things up in my face as Seamus Finnigan is so fond of doing. I got carried away researching articles on I Capture the Castle, because I have apparently never written a critical essay longer than 7 pages in four years of college and Winthrop requires at least a 15 page paper. Oi. So, I was just going to write a new paper entirely, but then I could only find ONE critical essay ever written on the actual book. Most everything else was theater and film reviews.So, as I’m sitting there researching these articles on the book, I’m thinking, “Do I want to be doing this for the next two years? What am I even trying to write about? ‘The Art of Capturing in I Capture the Castle‘ sounds like an amazing title, but what am I actually tackling here?” For a moment, I thought I might get completely dissuaded from continuing my literary education, but I didn’t. I merely thought that maybe just getting a Master of Arts isn’t what I need to do since my actual passion is not writing literary criticisms for the rest of my life. I’m still taken with the idea of applying and furthering my education, but part of me began to wonder again if I shouldn’t just wait to reapply to MFA programs. But then I thought, no – I can really see myself going for an M.A.Then I thought maybe that was my problem. That maybe I’m just trying to see myself doing things rather than actually doing them. What will applying for an M.A. do? It will make me write a fifteen-page paper. It will take me away from writing the book I actually want to write. I thought that maybe I was only doing it to say I was doing something when family members ask me. You know, I was at a reunion this past weekend and a relative asked me what I’d majored in, and when I told her English she looked at me with her lipsticked mouth agape as if to say, “And…” And, I want to be back in school, but I’m not entirely sure what I’d be getting myself into if I were to apply to an M.A. program. It would not be the type of writing I like, and I imagine I would begin to look at the writing as a chore. But even as I’m writing this I feel like I still want to do it. I’m just not sure if my feelings are authentic or sentimental. I know I regret not giving college my all and it makes me want to reconcile with myself, but is that smart?In trying to make this decision, I think of all the writing I’d like to be doing: book reviews, stories, poetic experiments, personal essays, travel essays – anything creative, really. I’d love to write the article ‘The Art of Capturing in I Capture the Castle,’ but I’m not sure I want it to be an academic essay. I’m starting to believe that I don’t have an authentic knowledge of who I am, that I am more concerned with labeling myself for other people so that they know I’m worthy of a nod rather than being true to what I want to do in life. That’s what graduation was supposed to be about for me. Instead, I’m imprisoning myself to other people’s expectations, the very thing I loathed as a college student. (Aside: Can I just say that I feel more like Cassandra Mortmain right now than myself? I feel like she is helping me reach this decision better than I ever could, which is a real shame considering I’ve already asked a former professor, whom I adore, to write a recommendation for me.)On page 339 of Castle, when asked if she’d like to go to college, Cassandra answers “I only want to write. And there’s no college for that except life.” While she probably isn’t thinking of academic programs for writing (I don’t even know if they had those in 1930s England), I understand what she’s saying. And as I’m writing to you right now, I feel more literary than I’ve felt in the last four years. This is what I’m talking about, I suppose. I don’t need college to make me feel literary, I need writing and books and conversing with others about writing and books to be literary. In the end, it comes down to what I do. As Lisa See words it in this month’s issue of Writer’s Digest, “One of the things [my mother] always says is to start right where you are. And I think that’s really important. So many people want it all right this second, but you can start right where you are and build from that.” I’m almost 22. Some people aren’t starting their literary careers until their 40s, 50s, 60s… Perhaps they’ve been building up to it, laying down rocks each year until they’ve structured an entire castle of literature around themselves. I can’t change the ruins of my college career into an opulent musculature of the idyllic college lifestyle I wish I’d lived, and even if I do go on to get my MFA, I want it to be because it’s what I want and not because it’s what I think I should do so I have something to say to people when they ask me what I’m doing with my life. And you know I’d really have liked to shove a broom down that woman’s lingering open mouth when I answered her question about my major. Okay, I’m done now. My Best, Lauren P.S.: Anyone who knows me well knows that I am an indecisive person. My indecisive nature is pleased to meet you. I once told my cousin, Emily, an anecdote of ruffling my mother’s feathers because she was so tired of my indecisiveness. But Emily told me that I was only trying to figure out where to go next in life, and that there was nothing wrong with that, although I can see how it gets annoying. I find it to be one of the most annoying things about myself. That is based on the fact that I annoy myself in doing it, but while this is true I see nothing wrong with trying to be thorough about my thoughts and feelings and wants. However, I think there comes a time when we need to realize that our fidgeting is useless and what we really need is to go to an empty church like what was suggested to Cassandra, and just listen.