Welcome back to Mandarin Monday. This week we have an idiom for you that can be applied to writing.

画蛇添足 (huà shé tiān zú) means to add feet to a snake. It is used to describe someone who adds something unnecessary, thus ruining the original work (the remakes of Star Wars come to mind…).

Your novel is well written. If you write more it will be adding feet to a snake.

你的小说写得很好。别再多写了不然就是画蛇添足了。(nǐ de xiǎo shuō xiě de hěnhǎo. bié zài duō xiěle bùrán jiù shì huà shé tiān zúle.)

Today’s Star-Ledger has an article about universities offering more creative writing courses. It seems that many students are taking these classes to improve their writing skills for employment as well as using them as creative release. The goal of the universities is to serve the students and improve their skills for future employment (which will lead to alumni donations).

As one who took plenty of creative writing classes as an undergraduate and graduate, I have some mixed feelings about these courses. One aspect of creative writing courses that the article brings up is grades. Grading any creative class is entirely subjective, and, more often than not, instructors in such courses hand out fairly easy marks assuming students hand in all their assignments. As Martin Donoff, head of the graduate program at Fairleigh Dickenson University, puts it it’s a “touchy-feely” subject. Many instructors are afraid of coming off as unsupportive, and, therefore, do not voice their honest opinion regarding student writing.

In my time as an undergraduate, I had seven creative writing classes with five teachers. Only one of those teachers really provided any direction in class–as well as useful feedback that could lead to improving the work. Even with that useful feedback, the instructor still was unable to honestly state whether or not the work was good or bad. And peer comments in workshops weren’t much  better. I took two fiction workshops with the same instructor, and the students in each class were dynamically different. The second time around I found myself in a group of writers who mostly wrote wholesome stories. The rest fancied themselves intellectuals–which meant that they saw themselves as better than everyone else. My stories turned out to offend most of the class because I tried to write about likeable characters who engaged in illegal activities.

I admit that my writing was nothing special at the time. In fact, I will probably never again look at anything I wrote as an undergrad. After college, when I worked at a newspaper, I found myself writing a bit more poetry and commentary. Somehow, I was more creatively engaged at the newspaper. That was when I decided to earn my MFA in creative writing.

The MFA had similar problems as the undergraduate classes. The instructors were still unwilling to voice honest opinions because they didn’t want to offend anyone. Many of my classmates would talk outside of class and we would try to decipher the code of the instructors–what did he/she say that wasn’t the usual stock comment? Fortunately, the classmates were occassionally more helpful in commenting on work. Plus, the instructors provided many more helpful writing prompts. They also had us read more interesting stories to keep our brains going.

Out of all the instructors I had during my time in grad school, only one was really honest about student work. This instructor ripped our work apart in a constructive manner–taking twenty-page stories and editing them down to ten. And we all thanked that instructor for improving our writing.

The difficulty with any creative program is that it requires a shared vision. If the students and instructors aren’t on the same page, it can turn the classroom into a hostile environment for creativity. But, if the students and instructors share too much of the same vision the class can quickly become stale.

As writers, we should carefully consider what we want to get out of such programs before jumping in. Such courses are best for those who need motivation and creative ideas. Credentials don’t necessary make anyone a better writer.