Interview with Alyson Hagy

Last week, I sat down with Alyson Hagy, professor extraordinaire and one of the founding faculty members of the UWyo MFA program. We talked about her writing projects, where she sees the program heading, and what advice she has for MFA applicants. Below is a transcript of the interview, edited for clarity. (And to remove all references to the subpar Detroit Tigers’ season.)

What are you working on this summer? 

I’ve been doing final edits on a short novel which will be published in October 2018, by Graywolf Press. It’s called Scribe. I just sent it in last week, as my birthday present to myself. I’m really curious how it gets handled, because I’m too close to it now. I’ve been working on this for about four years, and I’m just too close to it.

I’ve also got a small handful of short stories, literally all but one of them are flash fiction, a thousand words or under. And that’s my next thing. They roughly go together, so I’m trying to put together a chapbook with some sort of thematic center. I don’t have good words for what the center is. A couple of the stories are about migration and immigration, a couple of them have war angles. They’re more fables than realist pieces. I’d like to spend the next couple or three months seeing what that looks like.

I’ve got lots of ideas for after that, but I need to recharge. I’m recharging now.

It seems like a very productive summer.   

I’ve also been reading a lot, and that’s been a real pleasure. I’m reading Daisy Johnson’s Fen right now, which is interesting. Layli Long Soldier’s Whereas is a really powerful book of poems. I also read H.L. Hix’s Rain Inscription, and Ocean Vuong’s Night Sky With Exit Wounds. So I’ve read a lot of really powerful poetry this summer. I’ve also read some crime fiction and loved every page, because I needed that, too.

It’s difficult for me to call anything the best I’ve read this summer. I read Outline by Rachel Cusk, and I’m not sure I’d say I loved it, but I’m so intrigued by it. American Gods, by Neil Gaiman, is just a ton of fun. I re-read William Gay’s The Long Home, which is classic southern gothic. It was published in 1999 and I’d read it when it came out, but it was really fascinating to read again. So I think I’ve gotten a  pretty good cross section. I’ve also read a book I’ve been thinking a lifetime about: Missoula, the rape and social justice book by Jon Krakauer.

It’s also been an interesting summer for the program. Obviously there’s been some financial turmoil in the program this year. As faculty and as a program, how are we moving forward from that? 

Brad Watson [MFA Program Director] is in the lead, but he and I have been in pretty constant contact with the dean. She’s been our advocate for all kinds of arguments, primarily for getting our discretionary funding back when those accounts fill up again, That’s the big picture move. The dean declared her support, but the devil will be in the details. I have met with pretty much every colleague who will be here this fall and we’ll be committed to a strong year, for everything that’s in our control. So what can we control? Good workshop experiences, good program experiences. I don’t think we have the detail on teaching assignments yet, but we’ve got everyone’s GAs [graduate assistantships] covered.

But what we’d like to know, what everyone would like to know, is how many positions we can recruit for next year. We don’t have an answer yet. We’re scheduled to meet with the dean again in early September to discuss this. I also was fortunate enough to have some good interactions with Neltje, whose relationship with the university looks really strong. So we’ve got this great opportunity with her and her museum as a kind of anchor for a really incredible future for the art museum and for the writing program.

We still think this a great program. There are lots of people who are interested in helping the program retain its really unique position as a small, innovative, flexible, interdisciplinary MFA. There’s almost no other program like us. There are some programs that have pieces of what we have, but our connections to places like the art museum, the Haub School, Wyoming Public Media, Barry Center, UCross, and Jentel… I would also hope we develop a relationship to Brush Creek, the residency over near Saratoga. That’s something I’m talking to the art museum about.

So, we’ve got some possibilities. We’ve got some really excellent first year students coming in and of course we have a really excellent second year class. Brad has been working hard for the program, and we’ve all been throwing ideas out. We’re going to try to bring some visitors in. We need to get a clearer sense of who’s going to be in Denver, who will be driving up to UCross. We can provide a couch, some dinner, a chance to make some connections. And we’re hoping to grab enough discretionary funding to have a couple additional events.

You know, the details will be different in some ways but I’m hopeful that the end result will be good. I mean, the program is only as good ultimately as what we all put into it as a community. You guys [current students and recent grads] know that. You did a really good job of that last year and have for many years. That’s our ace. And so we as faculty have to commit to being part of that as well. We all need to talk to each other.

And there’s also some talk, and we probably out to do this as a community too: What is the future of genre here? Because our faculty has changed its face. We still can offer the traditional three genres, but are there other things we should be thinking about doing?

A lot of the people who read the blog are making decisions about where to apply. Do you have a sense right now if you’ll be recruiting people for the three genres? 

That’s definitely the hope. But we believe that we need to have enough GAs to provide the critical mass for those. And there are a lot of ideas out there. One of which is that we may have people apply both genre-specific and not genre-specific. We haven’t had that conversation yet, but I think that could be a very interesting way to do this. We tend to have a great many fiction applications and, still having the core of our fiction faculty, we can probably stay steady there.

But the short answer is we’ve asked for enough GAs to keep all three genres, and the dean found that a persuasive ask. Whether she can make that actually happen or not…

In your experience reading applications in past years, what do people focus on that’s extraneous? What should they be focusing on? 

I love applications. I say bring on your strongest writing sample and don’t be afraid to take certain kinds of risks. I’ll steal from my old friend Charlie Baxter: I’m looking for what he calls emotional intelligence or aesthetic intelligence in those writing samples. I’m not looking for craft perfection, that’s something that comes with practice and reading. I’m looking for whether there’s an investment, consciously or unconsciously, in the material that has a kind of shimmer or knottiness to it. That’s what makes it really interesting. And it can be something that’s pretty untamed.

When people are writing about wanting to teach, they should let us know if they have teaching experience. But, you know, be honest about that.

(Laughing) Are people not honest about that? 

I think people are generally honest about that. That’s the shortest and safest part of the application.

Letters of recommendation do matter, and it’s not as much about the writing skill but people talking about your ability to be in a community. I don’t think that all writers have to be social animals, but one of the deals you have to make when you come to our program is that you’re willing to be in a critical and aesthetic community.

Last but not least, in their statements of purpose, I think sometimes people tell us what they think we want to hear rather than what they really need to say.

What do they think you want to hear? 

What wonderful traditional undergraduate achievement they’ve had, or that they’re absolutely going to finish that novel or finish that story collection and that they’re sure they know what they’re going to do when they get here. Don’t get me wrong, that’s nice. I like seeing the ambition and the plans. But I also believe that books take a lot longer than 20 months.

And people often submit statements of purpose as if they live in a world without other writers and other books. It’s really helpful to me to know who they love to read, who’s driving them crazy or who has really got them thinking, old or new. Reading is your constant training as a writer, we’re all doing it all the time. That’s probably more important to me than–look, I can see your undergraduate record on your transcripts. But a lot of writers aren’t traditionally great students. Many are, but not all. I’m looking for “Why do you need to be in Laramie now, reasons large or small? Why is now the time to move into a program and really test your own voice and aesthetic and make what can really be a real leap, particularly if you’re leaving a job?”  Just tell it to us straight. And the people who tell us those stories most sincerely are pretty effective in their applications.

You learn so much about a person not just from the books they love but also the ones that get under their skin, the books that they end up throwing across the room. 

The Rachel Cusk novel Outline, again, I wouldn’t say I love it, but it’s trying to do something that’s gnawing at me. I’m not even sure I like it, but I would love to talk to incoming students about it. So yes, I would love to know what books you want to throw across a room and the ones you’re mystified by, or the ones that make you feel the way you hope your own work will make other people feel. And there’s no house style here. We read applications for building the most interesting cohort possible, not replicating ourselves. And we’ll continue to make that our principle.

Is that going to be more difficult with a smaller cohort? 

Yes, I think that’s true. I don’t have a good answer for that, but if you think you’re going to have 9-12 students overall, it’s probably a little different than if you think you’re going to have 4-6. We’re still going to go with the work and the people we think will fit best here. Traditionally, we have not felt like we were necessarily the best home for people who have already launched professionally. They send us great applications and I think they’d be fabulous to have here, but if they’ve already got a contract with Pantheon, we may not be the right program. We might be–I wouldn’t say to turn us down–but we have traditionally been the program that attracts people that have multiple interests, sometimes not in literature, and who have made that wildlife biology or that undergraduate printmaking ceramics degree a foundation on which to build a writing life.

Interview with Erin Jones ’15

Erin Jones graduated from the UWyo in the fall of 2015 with a dual MFA in Creative Writing (Non-Fiction) and Environment and Natural Resources. Thankfully for those of us in the program now, she decided to stick around in Laramie and is working at Wyoming Public Media while editing her novel. In this interview, Erin and I talk about her time in the program, how she used her summers here to explore the intersection between science and storytelling, and how wonderful it is to work for Wyoming Public Media. On a totally unrelated not, thank you to Wyoming Public Media for letting us record this in the studio and use WPM editing software to cut down on some of our unnecessary fits of ums and laughter.

The Graduate(s)

The summer of a two-year program is a wonderful thing. As someone who’d been out of school for nearly a decade when I started up at Wyoming, the idea of having a summer vacation was beautiful. And I could plan for mine, unlike the Mooch. (Too soon?) But in addition to taking time to relax and visit family, the summer is pretty crucial for getting your thesis into fighting shape. Today, I’m talking to three recent grads about the work they did over their summers and how it impacted their writing.

Going into his summer, Alex wasn’t entirely sure what his thesis project would be. He’d worked on a number of short stories during his first year, but had a “sort of jumbled” first chapter of a novel as well. He decided to focus on the novel over the summer as he preferred to use workshop time for shorter pieces. Diving deep on the novel solidified his thesis plans, and all but one of the chapters he wrote over the summer made it to the thesis. As much as he wrote during the summer, though, he missed teaching and having the structure of steady non-writing work.

Emily was similarly prolific in her summer work. Last summer, she wrote an entire draft of her thesis project, 300 pages of creative nonfiction focused on the presence, absence, and transformation of bodies. With that head start going into her second year, she was able to finish a full second draft by January, and eventually condensed her thesis into a tighter 140 page project. In the end, she wasn’t sure it the number of drafts she finished mattered so much as the fact that doing so much drafting over the summer left her “energized and excited” for the work to come.

Lilly took a different approach. She used her summer to relax, adventure, and get some mental space from her work. “One of the reasons Laramie has been such a productive writing space for me is the fact that the weather is so cold and forbidding, which makes it easier to stay inside and write all day,” Lilly said. “Laramie summers are beautiful and perfect, which is excellent for living if not for writing.” It’s difficult for self-imposed writing deadlines to compete with the limited window for many of Wyoming’s most stunning hikes. Lilly acknowledged that this lead to a much busier fall semester, but also noted that the distance she’d gotten from writing made her much more excited to edit older stories and draft new ones that had “mysteriously gestated” over the summer. After graduating this May, she decided to get even more distance: she’s up in Alaska, working in a kitchen in Denali National Park and getting inspiration for so many more stories.

As for me, I’m trying to take inspiration from all three as we move into the last month of summer. I’ve kept reasonably steady work going with WPR, I drove around the U.S. and Canada for six weeks to get some distance and get out of my head, and hopefully I’ll be able to use the next four weeks to dig into my thesis and start the fall semester energized and ready to go!  

I was told there would be listicles…

Top Ten Things You’ll Miss About Laramie When You Decide to Prolong Your Summer Research Trip*

  1. Your bed.
  2. Saturday night karaoke at the Ruffed Up Duck. You’ll try humming to yourself in your tent after midnight, but it’s just not the same.

    “Freebird? Anybody?”

  3. $2.50 beer from the Buckhorn or Crow Bar or just about any place beer is sold in Laramie. When you go out on this trip, still treat your friends, of course–just have fewer friends.
  4. The complete lack of humidity and its effects on your hair, sweat, and general disposition.
  5. The Danwich from Prairie Rose, if you’re not your best self any particular morning. You enjoy a strong contender for replacement on the trip, the Potatohead burrito at The Potato in McCarthy (July 4th parade them: Taters, not Dick Taters). But the Danwich, various breakfast proteins and fats gathered up in a big French toast hug, calls to you.
  6. Not spending ten hours a day staring at a way too obvious metaphor:

    “We see the world through a broken window because the world is broken, Chad. Duh.”

  7. Public art! The murals all over Laramie are gorgeous and intricate and growing daily.
  8. Reliable WiFi access, so you don’t have to post in a rush whenever you drive through Whitehorse. Hello again, Whitehorse!
  9. Wyoming mountains and rocks and trails. It’s wonderful to see folks taking full advantage of free national park access in Canada in honor of the sesquicentennial this year, but you’ve been a bit spoiled by the lower density hikes and climbs in Wyoming.
  10. The amazing friends you’ve made in and out of the program in your eleven months as a Laramie resident so far. Those same ones that keep texting to find out when you’ll be back already. (Soon, promise!)


*Written from a Walmart parking lot in Canada.


Wyoming Pride

IMG_0742We’ve reached the end of another Pride month, which brings with it all sorts of complicated feelings. Happiness at the ground that we’ve covered, devastated by the ground that we’ve lost, and figuring out how to look forward and plan for all the fights and celebrations and living to come.

In Wyoming, especially in Laramie, Pride can be a fraught issue. For many of us in the MFA program who identify as LGBTQIA, choosing the University of Wyoming meant reckoning with moving to a city most known to the outside world as the place Matthew Shepard was killed. A great deal has changed in the last 19 years: the University hosts an annual Shepard Symposium on Social Justice (the flags below are from this year’s symposium in April), Spectrum is a great on-campus resource for queer undergraduate students, and groups like Wyoming Equality provide education, advocacy and support throughout the state.


That said, there’s still a long way to go. Kat, one of our wonderful recent graduates, writes that she “was surprised by what little queer community had been established through the university,” though she found support within the MFA cohort. Sarah, now a second year poet, echoed some of that sentiment. While she wasn’t surprised by the size of the queer community in Laramie, she reports that as her first year went on and she got to know the community more deeply, she’d describe it as “small but mighty!” She’s been impressed by the number of students and locals that “show up for justice” in classrooms and on the streets in protest. The program itself still has some strides to make in how workshops receive and discuss writing about issues of gender and sexuality, but—speaking only for myself here, a queer ciswoman who often appears straight—I believe it’s moving in the right direction. I’ve been heartened to see the number of students, staff and faculty in the Creative Writing and English departments who care deeply about these issues and show up to support and protect our rights. But we need to acknowledge our blindspots, and understand that we can always do better and it’s our job to do better.  


This year, Wyoming Equality and other queer-friendly organizations focused on bringing Pride to people throughout the state, rather than gather everyone in the capital. Separate events were held in Casper, Cheyenne, Douglas, Gillette, Jackson Hole, Lander, Laramie and Pinedale. Obviously, there’s tremendous benefit to sending kids the message that Pride doesn’t just exist in one place in your state, that Pride is where you are. But the increasing number of events (or just failures in intersectionality) may also result in diminished turnout for each. According to the Wyoming Tribune Eagle, a little over 120 people attended the parade in Cheyenne, which is both wonderful for Pride and yet less than a tenth of the number who attended the Women’s March along the same route in January. That number includes several people from our program, including Kat who went in no small part because she “wanted [her] dogs to get attention from cool queer folks.” (And they did.) It was a beautiful, low-key morning, with some decent chanting and rainbow jackalopes for all.


Laramie’s PrideFest, two weeks later, had between 100 and 300 on hand for each event, along with more MFAers. Still to come this summer is Rendezvous, Wyoming’s biggest queer gathering of the year. In it’s 25th year, this camping event has grown from a handful of attendees to averaging 400-500 folks. So if you’re going to be around August 16-20th, register here and head over to Medicine Bow National Forest for some fantastic company under the stars. And if you’re writing about your identity, if you’re writing to carve out your space in a world that doesn’t want to acknowledge it, keep at it. That’s where the stars burn brightest.    

Summer Plans, continued.


Since the last time I posted about first years (are we second years now?) and our summer plans, I’ve heard back from a few more folks excited to share their goals. Of course, in the same time frame, I’ve also hit the road to Alaska and find myself with rather limited internet access, hence the delay on this week’s post. (That’s my set-up above.) This week’s post is brought to you by the good people of Whitehorse, YT, and their multiple free WiFi hotspots.

Alex, one of our lovely non-fiction folks, is taking the summer to read and re-engage with the subjects (history, philosophy, cultural studies and literary theory) he’s been writing about all year for his thesis. (He’s also staying in slightly warmer climates after his first Laramie winter – he would like the world to know that -20F feels really, really cold.) Alex is about halfway done with the first draft, and hopes to use his downtime to revise and plan out the rest of the project. And because he’s so on top of things, he’s also working on applications for fellowships, grants, residencies, etc. The things you can accomplish when you’re organized…

Emily’s summer plans are a bit broader, as she keeps discovering new passion projects that take her down very different paths. She came into the program with a science background, and received funding from the Haub School of Environment and Natural Resources and the International Programs Office to study and write short stories about the ways in which ecotourism is impacting bioluminescence and the communities that serve as the gatekeepers to bioluminescent populations (fireflies, dinoflagellates, etc.). That research will take her to Indonesia, Puerto Rico, and the UCross Ranch in Northern Wyoming. During her downtime in Laramie, however, she’s working on several separate projects inspired in part by a literary portraiture class from spring semester. The latter will likely be the center of her thesis, but I can’t wait till next semesters’ workshops to see how the two projects influence each other!

Kevin, whom I’m lucky enough to work with on the Spoken Words podcast, is also going to be on the road for most of the summer, chasing cyanobacteria blooms. I’ll let him tell it: “Cyanobacteria love to soak up the summer sun while floating on bodies of water all across the country. These toxic and stinky unicellular organisms proliferate with the growing and mowing season by eating away nutrients from fertilizers and livestock manures.” He’s planning on talking to people in communities affected by cyanobacteria, people fighting the problem and those trying to profit off of it. His itinerary will be set by wherever the blooms appear this summer, but will likely include some or all of: the Snake River, Lake Eerie, the Finger Lakes, Chesapeake Bay, the Salton Sea, and Puget Sound. Come August, he and I will likely have added a collective 15,000 miles or more to our poor cars.

Over the next few weeks, I’ll start sharing more dispatches from the road as we see how all these ambitious summer plans start to pan out!




On the Radio

When I was researching MFA programs before application season, I had an Excel spreadsheet comparing key factors for all the schools I was looking at: size, location, duration, faculty, etc. But there was also an “Other” column that I treated as a “What if?” exercise. What if I took up rowing in a cool city? What if I got really good at building snow caves from winter camping in Alaska? My What If for Wyoming was what if I took up podcasting?

It was right there on the website: you could intern with Wyoming Public Radio. It wasn’t a given that I’d go for this. I didn’t listen to the radio often, I didn’t listen to podcasts. The last time I honestly thought about a career in broadcasting, I was seven. I listened to Ernie Harwell call Tigers games on my clock radio turned way down low long after I was supposed to go to sleep. (Sorry, Mom and Dad.) In one of the best birthday presents of all time, I called a half-inning in an empty radio booth at Tiger Stadium—of course, it was never actually on air—and got to keep the tape.

A and E at Baseball Hall of Fame[My sister and me at the Baseball Hall of Fame around the same time, celebrating the best in sport and early ‘90s fashion.]      

Twenty-some years later, the dream had changed quite a bit. But here I was in Laramie and Wyoming Public Radio was looking for MFA candidates to work on a new podcast, Spoken Words. Micah Schweizer, our host and supervisor, likes having writers work on podcasts because we understand narrative arc—or at least that’s what he says when he’s assigning us new work. The idea behind this podcast is to take a new look at the Mountain West through authors writing from or about the area. The student producers reach out to authors, interview them, and produce the episodes. Producing the episodes involves figuring out what the main arc will be, editing half an hour or more of tape down to twelve minutes or less, writing a script for the host and then editing the whole thing together. I’ve never spent so much time thinking about plosives before.

frequencies in audition[Whenever I switch over to spectral frequency display, I worry for a split second that the sound waves are on fire.]

There’s a tremendous flexibility in what we mean when we say “Mountain West” and that works to our benefit putting together the show. Most of us who have produced episodes so far would agree that we’re trying to push back against the standard cowboy narrative of the West and expand how people think about this space. We talk with fiction writers, non-fiction writers, poets, playwrights, historians, ecologists, journalists, athletes, etc. exploring issues of identity in the West. Of course, we’ve also got some authors of more traditional westerns featured on the program. They share great advice on the writing process, but also dig deeper on how newer threads in “western” writing alter our understanding of the history of the genre and the place. With new MFA candidates coming in each semester to work on the podcast, it’ll continue to push in new directions and we’ll promote more and more authors that buck the traditional narratives in so many different ways.  

Spoken Words is launching on Tuesday. You can catch the preview here, and subscribe if you feel so moved. I should note that I’ve had so much fun working on Spoken Words, I’m also joining the team for a second Wyoming Public Media podcast, HumaNature. Between these two programs, I’ll be spending almost as much time at the station as I spend writing this summer. (Sorry, thesis committee.) But learning words as sound waves, and writing things to be heard, not read, definitely impacts my personal writing. Jeff Lockwood, our outgoing MFA program director, likes to say that a good podcast has “the arc of a story, the rigor of non-fiction, and the elegance of poetry.” It’s a great trifecta, and a constant goal.

I would have ended this update there, but there’s a little postscript. Micah and I were talking about getting new producers for next semester, and he mentioned that no one responded to his first email about the opportunity last fall. I was indignant! There can’t have been an email before the one I saw and jumped on – this was my What If! But of course he was right, there was a first email. And it looks like it came in when I was stressed about getting a story in for workshop and getting bogged down in all sorts of other minutiae about being in a new town. Thank goodness I got another shot at it. So when you’re looking at programs, go wild imagining your What Ifs. And then, once you go, make sure you take the time to follow through on them. Don’t fall into the grad school rabbit hole. Take time for the What Ifs.