Potential Disaster Management

A few months ago, I wrote about how I was planning on applying to Iowa's MFA in creative non-fiction.  I don't need another MFA, but what I could use is some writing time and, if I am able to land one of their better fellowships, then that would buy me a few more years writing.  Of course, I'd have to take courses again, and workshop, but, I reasoned, I'd have more time than I currently do with my part-time-in-name-only teaching job.

Part of the other reason I thought about doing this was because the inherent insecurity in being an adjunct.  I knew, for example, that the enrollment where I teach is falling as the economy gets better.  I haven't been there that long compared to many of my colleagues, and so I'd be the first let go.  I'm also low on the list for getting classes, so the end of each term is always filled with worry and anxiety, as I hope that I can land a second class (I need 2 classes to make it through financially, and most terms I need to maintain my health insurance). 

As a result of this insecurity, a good portion of my life is spent in what I've termed "Potential Disaster Management."  I calculate what we'd need to give up to make it on one class or what we'd need to do, God forbid, I got no classes.  I look for freelance writing gigs.  I consider setting up a tutoring service.  I network with acquaintances.  And in spring of this year, I applied for a second instructor position in another department at the college.  I was hired.  Buoyed by this, I thought that perhaps I'd be able to make it through every term, every year.  However, there are no classes for me in the second department next term.  I've managed to get two classes in my first department, so I'll be fine.  But it's hard to escape the feeling that I am just skirting disaster and that, given enough time, it will hit me.

That disaster may come via that falling enrollment:  I know that adjuncts have been, for the past few years, allowed to teach more classes than our contract allows because there had been such a surge in numbers when the economy collapsed.  Once the union and administration ends that, I'll be stuck at 5 classes a year (with one extra in the summer if I'm very lucky).  That's $20,000/year, maybe $24,000. 

That's why the idea of Iowa, or something else, somewhere else, seems more secure.  At least back under the auspices of a university, I will have some stability.  A fellowship is only, at the most, $17,500, but it comes close to the $20,000 mark.  And I'd qualify again for food stamps year round, other assistance.  I'm also applying for fellowships at a few other universities, though each of them is difficult to land--the equivalent of a writer's winning lottery ticket.

And then I think about our lives here, how settled we are.  We've been in this small city for the past 8 1/2 years.  I have a close circle of friends I love.  I'm comfortable here, established even.  That's the rub, really.  I've worked hard to scratch out a life here.  I'm about to get seniority at the community college which means that my job will be more protected, and I'll have a bit easier of a time getting classes.  It's not nearly as secure as tenure but, for an adjunct, it's pretty good.  Am I willing to turn my back on that to move to a tiny, frozen town in the Midwest?  Am I willing to uproot the kids, all of whom are excelling and happy, for something like "writing time" and a shot at "stability"? 

I wish the decisions came easier.  I know I can make lists of pros and cons, can calculate costs of living and moving, research schools.   I have already done some of these things.  Yet it all seems murkier, harder to decide.  Do I accept what I have here and consciously set out to believe that it's enough?  Is it enough?  Or do I strike out for the east, hoping that those few years will help me finish and revise my memoir and start a second book?  Will that, after all is said and done, be enough to make it somewhere else? 

I've already made up my mind to apply.  There's a deadline and I know I'll still feel the same pull in January or February.  Maybe, I think, it won't matter.  Maybe I won't get in or if I do, the fellowship or funding will be so small as to not matter.  I admit, part of me is relieved to consider that scenario.  Another Potential Disaster I'd manage to avoid. 

*tm

Comments

[E'beth]

As one of those friends who loves you back, I am perhaps almost as torn about this decision as you are. I would like with all my heart to comment with no bias, but for the most selfish and selfless reasons all at once, it is impossible for me to do so.

[Rachel B.]

I understand the conflict, Heather, but I think it's best at this point just to apply and know that you can make that decision when you hear word--that's usually mid-April, right? In the mean time, be kind to you, because you're just the most amazing mother and person, and know that you can make that decision when you have more information. Easier said than done, but I think it could help.

[Lynn K.]

Though it is not the same, your post reminds me of what I have been thinking about a lot, which is, how to choose between WHERE I live and WHAT I do. Which is more important? For me, it has to be a balance.
I wish there was a magic "writer fund" where you could get money enough to just write for a year, because I know if you wrote a book you could sell it and then that would make a lot of other things easier.
Believe in your gift! You are a great writer and you need time. Maybe Iowa is that, but maybe there are other ways too. I don't know what they are...
kickstarter? Kent Nelson got a bunch of people to "invest" in his book and then when he sold it, he paid them back. Have you thought about that? I mean, figure out how much you need...and then maybe experiment? Raise some money, take the summer off...I don't know. Set up a paypal account, because I am ready to donate! (seriously, it is a mere stroke of luck that I have a full time job)
Just don't give up, because we need your stories.
Good luck.

[Jenn R]

You're both a great mother and writer. Please keep writing and let us all know when your book is released so we can run out and buy it!

[terriblemother]

Thanks all. I am going to apply no matter what. So much can happen between now and next August, and reducing my options is a bad idea.

The encouragement is helpful. And I've thought about doing a Kickstarter project before--I'm just not sure that I can pull it off successfully. And I also think that I might need to do one eventually if I end up self-publishing my memoir, or to promote it. I wouldn't want to keep on asking friends and family to donate.

This is when I wish there were better funding for the arts, you know?

[terriblemother]

ALSO Lynn: I totally know what you mean about balance. It's hard to do it, but that's what I've been going for here as well. Still, a move might be good for us all.

[Evelyn Wangari]

You are such a good mother and a writer. Great stuff!