I'm now, officially, an MFA graduate.
Okay, so the news isn't that current. It actually happened in June. Still, I have to admit it feels good to be a Master, even if it is just of fiction writing*.
And you know what? The whole thesis thing wasn't half bad. The defense was a pleasure, and I'm very happy with the finished product. There's more to that story, but I'll save that for another day. In the mean time, I'll probably never post on this blog again. Or, at least, that's what you should tell yourself. That way you'll be delighted when I actually DO post something up here. Later this week, for example. (Low expectations are the key to happiness, after all.) So, until
P.S. Please, please get the title reference. If you don't, you are dead to me.
* And, even though I have the title, I have to admit that I don't feel much like the master of anything--especially not fiction writing. I've still got a long way to go where that is concerned, I think. But, I'm smarter about it than I was two years ago, and if that happens every two years from here on out, I'll be happy as a witch in a broomstick factory (ick...those Geico commercials are really getting to me).
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