This

... is how I feel.

Last week's issues are more or less fading away (hooray!) but yesterday was another thesis deadline and I'm now totally brain-drained.

It's a mostly good sort of drained -- I feel like I hit a stride I hadn't achieved in ages, really writing, not just transcribing or starting a scene only to abandon it for a different start. For months, I'd accumulated those starts, 19 pages of them. Yesterday, I turned in a completed chapter with a beginning, middle, and end.

I'm supposed to be writing up a short item for another professor right now, but I think I'm still not quite recharged. Rather, I think I used up my quota of writing brain on an e-mail I had to compose this afternoon. I'd gotten an inquiry from a prospective student, asking about the ins and outs of my program (I'm listed as a student contact for such questions).

Of course, the applicant wanted to know what I thought about the classes, the faculty, etc., etc., and I'm glad to provide my take on my own experience -- which I can only characterize as mixed. But it's not something I share without a lot of consideration about context.

I imagine if you asked each person in my year what he or she thought of the program, none of the responses would be the same. There would be similarities in some areas, but also enormous differences, depending on each individual's personality and expectations. We're all as different as the work we produce. So whenever I reply to someone's inquiry, I have to emphasize the importance of asking other students the same questions he or she has asked me. And I have to word my response so it is absolutely clear that my experience is by no means representative of anyone else's, that in fact there are people I have met who would answer very differently.

For some reason, I don't trust these eager applicants to remember that. I'm sure there are those who will romanticize the "highly intriguing" and "highly illustrious" program I'm a part of (words straight out of today's e-mail), no matter what I say, only to be disappointed when they arrive (if they're admitted). Perhaps I think this because so many people I met in the program eventually found themselves disillusioned with it. The fact is there were (and still are) limited resources, not just in terms of funding but in terms of mentorship, and if you don't fight hard to be your own advocate when you feel like you're not getting what you need, you'll be less satisfied with your experience. I don't want the prospective students who contact me to go into the process of applying -- to this program or any program -- without the understanding that this is part of what will greatly influence how things end up for them.

And then there will be those who'll get turned off before they've gathered enough opinions, taking my comments, no matter how carefully I couch them, as bald-faced denunciations.

It's out of my control, in any case. I can only choose my words so carefully. I just hope I did a good enough job that it'll make the right difference to the right person, if that makes any sense. That's my reason for replying in the first place.