Sweetbitter: On Creation and Academia

Or, The Privilege of Creation and Academia

Welcome back to Sweetbitter. October was a long, hard month that challenged me to (re)consider what I want for myself and my future, who I want to be, and how I imagine the next few years going. None of those questions that came into my mind have definite answers yet—but they have frameworks. That is, I’ve always had a sense of who I am and what I want to do in life. I know that my passion for writing and creativity is a driving force behind most of the things I do and that cultivating a life in which I can prioritize writing is a major goal for me.

But that doesn’t mean it’s possible. In contemplating many things, something I realized years ago circled back into my head: creation is a privilege. Not every person has the accessibility, space, health, and/or resources to create. Oftentimes, it’s as if other writers are playing on a field I’ll never be let into. They have more time, more support, more financial freedom to create the work they’re passionate about. And I’m glad they can do what they love, but nonetheless the conversation about who can and cannot create is important. On the days my health is flaring up or I’ve worked a long shift and simply cannot push myself to write, I think of what my life would be like if I could just push past those restrictions. If I was healthier. If I didn’t need to work so much. How much energy and effort would I be able to put into my writing, then?

In the same vein, I’ve been thinking about the accessibility and privilege of higher education. Being a first-generation college student often means navigating the intricate and elite-ish academia framework alone. Now that I’m in the first semester of my master’s program, I’ve had no time to write and hardly any time to read anything that isn’t a research paper or textbook—which, I want to acknowledge, simply means I’m in a position of privilege to be studying a subject that I love in higher education. For that, I chose to put writing on the back burner. But the burn out in academia is so prominent and I’ve felt it more in October than I ever did throughout undergrad despite the fact that I have more support in my life now. I’m pushing my health to meet deadlines while wondering what kind of future this degree will lead to especially given narrowing access to tenure-track positions and the state of academia right now. Again, those same questions come to mind of accessibility and privilege.

Ultimately, those questions serve me no good—at least in regard to saving my peace and sanity. I can contemplate the “what-if” scenarios all day, but they’ll just slow me down, too, because I won’t give up. I don’t want to. The things I’m pursuing are important to me and I wouldn’t make the sacrifices I have to if I didn’t care—if I didn’t want the things and life I’m trying so hard to cultivate. None of these considerations are without nuance. I am both immensely grateful for the position I’m in and the opportunities I have while at the same time wanting to acknowledge that the playing field is not equitable for everyone. I hope someday that it will be.

Meanwhile, I’m going to continue to create when I can. Querying has had little fanfare-worthy news yet, but I’m still trying. And in the meantime I’m still working on Saint WIP. There’s no sneak peak this month—sorry! But I’m determined to write every month of November (and December) with the goal of finishing draft zero by the end of the year. Slowly, and with lots of simmering thoughts, the plot is unfurling in my head. So, I suppose I’ll just have to see what makes it on to the page this month.

I hope that November brings you peace, safety, and the space to create. Remember that you are worth good things and a good life.

Until next time.

With love,
Kaitlin.