We discovered the truth about our profession from the news. This is not unusual when you work in Hollywood (the myth, not the location) — press releases are a fine way to discover your company has been sold and you’re about to be laid off. It says much about our powers of analysis that we were able read an article about creative accounting and realize, “Hey, they’re talking about us!”
After ten long years, we left our glamorous (ha!) position in the entertainment industry to concentrate on writing. It’s hard to work up enthusiasm for anything when you spend two to three hours a day commuting and nine to ten hours a day, well, arguing over the meaning of aggregate. And we spent more hours than we wish to recall wondering where one found a dictionary that defined said word as “counting each piece separately.”
As it turns out, we were prematurely trendy (such is the way life always goes — the drummer sets a fine tempo, but we’re listening to a different song). People, dissatisfied with their lives and filled with a desire to create, are returning to school and learning the fine art of writing. This leads to fun-filled master’s programs where things (in our never humble opinion) get workshopped until they sound like a group project:
Back in the 21st century, the fatal urge to cram campus lecture halls with graduates learning how to produce novels or “life writing” continues apace. Last month, a press release winged through the door announcing that the University of Essex is introducing a creative-writing course. No offence either to the university or its very distinguished founding staff, but: why, exactly?
- Academic writing courses
- Too many creative accountants: The boom in academic writing courses has led to a glut of soulless novels. Haven’t we reached saturation point?
