Tayari's Blog: Praying To Catch The Bus

Here's my personal example. I have told the story a million times about how I met Jewell Parker Rhodes in an elevator at AWP and she offered me a scholarship to get an MFA. But let me tell you the rest.

At the time, I was in graduate school, studying for a Ph.D. at The University of Georgia. What I really wanted was an MFA. I wanted to be a writer, not a critic. But I was afraid to make the leap. The PhD at Georgia seemed to be a nice compromise as the program had a creative emphasis. And I can't say that I was miserable. I took classes from Judith Ortiz Cofer and Kevin Young and started on a weird little manuscript that turned into Leaving Atlanta.

I didn't have any real specific prayer activity going. It's not like I sat in my room writing affirmations: I will get into an MFA program! But I was being spiritually open. I made it clear to the Universe that I wanted to be a writer more than anything in the world. I revised my short story "Magic Words" about a million times and forced many innocent people to read it. In other words, while I was praying to catch the bus, I was running like hell.

Well, the AWP conference came along and certain students were given the opportunity to work the desk to pay for the conference. They only needed to come up with the plane fare to Portland. I was not chosen to participate. I had no idea why, but I was crushed. I wanted to go but who had the money to fly to Portland, get a hotel room, AND pay to attend the conference? Not me. I thought maybe i could swing it if I worked the desk, but I wasn't even given that opportunity. I felt I had missed that particular bus through no fault of my own. There was no application procedure. I just wasn't tapped.

About two weeks before the conference, one chosen student had an emergency and couldn't go. I was asked to take her place. A friend of mine who was a professor told me she was going to the event and I was welcome to crash in her room for FREE. My first thought was to say, No. I didn't want to go as an understudy. Pride made me want to refuse the opportunity. (Or was it fear?) Anyway, I ended up going to the conference.

When I met Jewell Parker Rhodes, she invited me to join her at Arizona State. (She knew me because I was in a class that read her novel, Magic City. She sent us all free copies and I authored a thank you note on behalf of the class.)

She invited me to apply. An application involves a writing sample and you need a good one. She needed a sample good enough to explain why she was admitting someone after the application period had ended. She needed something to impress the hell out of the committee.

Luckily, I happened to be running as fast as I could. There was no need for me to run home and slap something together. I had a writing sample. I sent it to her via overnight mail and the rest his history.

I tell this story a lot because it is magical. But until I read the chapter in the Artist's Way, I had forgotten about my own part in it. Lately, I have been getting a little down and frustrated and cursing the ridiculous politics of publishing and I think that all my
frustration has been eating up the energy that I need to really run for the bus. So, now I am strapping on my sneakers. Again.