One of the hardest parts of writing after graduating from an M.F.A. program is that I no longer have specific directions given to me by faculty mentors. No assignments to complete, no book lists to get through outside of the books I’m reading on my own, and no workshops to help point me in different directions than I would have considered otherwise. It’s isolating, and of course it has to be. That’s what the M.F.A. is supposed to prepare us for, a life of writing on our own.

But even a good program that succeeds in giving you those tools can’t really prepare you for the feeling of isolation and confusion that comes with actually stepping into that “writing life.” Because really, unless you have an agent or a publisher waiting to receive pages of a work already in progress, the only person you’re accountable to is yourself. You have to set the goals, deadlines, word counts, timelines, etc. You have to commit not only to the generating of new content, but the continual editing and revising of that and current content. It’s the only way that projects get done and it takes a lot of time, a lot of effort, and a lot of struggle.

For NaNoWriMo, I decided I was going to get started on a book of fantasy I’ve been trying to write for years now. And it went well for a bit, and then I didn’t write anything for probably 20 days or so. I wrote a few posts ago about prioritizing the projects and genres that matter most to us, but I think part of that means focusing on the writer I am in this moment. What am I reading the most of? Poetry. What occupies my creative thoughts? Poetry. What feels the most urgent? Poetry.

I have both a chapbook and full length manuscript of my creative thesis from grad school out for consideration by a local publisher right now and while the suspense of whether either one will be accepted is tormenting me, I am also thrilled with the idea that even if the book(s) isn’t/aren’t accepted, I will have another chance to revise, another chance to look over those poems and make any changes that are more obvious now. This, too, goes along with focusing on the writer I am now because it helps me see which of the poems feel kind of “stuck” in my mind. Those are the poems I can continue reworking.

Because let’s be honest: I’ve read a lot of books since I submitted these manuscripts for consideration. My goal this year was to read 75 books and I am already at 86 with, at least, three more that I know I’ll finish before the end of the year (one poetry and two prose). The idea that I would return to my manuscript now and not find anything that could still be reworked is pretty much patently false. This is why even rejections are beneficial to the writing process. They help us grow.

And even if the best happens and these manuscripts get accepted, I will continue to grow and learn through the publication process. A debut book of poetry is no small thing to release to the world. It will impact the writer I am and help me grow into the writer I hope to be. That’s the real point of focusing on the writer we are in the moment: it allows us to acknowledge our strengths while also acknowledging our limitations. That creates a kind of map for how to get from where we are to where we hope to be, without forcing ourselves into a performance.

That’s what my NaNoWriMo goal was: a performance. I was performing a role for myself based on what I thought would make me money one day. And one day, perhaps it will. But right now I need to focus on poetry. It’s what energizes me.

So ask yourself what writer are you right now? How can you best serve that writer? How have you been hindering that writer? And what’s one thing you can do to help yourself focus on the writer you are so that you can grow into the writer you want to be?