A factory to turn students into professional writers

THE recently advertised and newly created post of professorship in creative writing at Glasgow University raises a number of questions. Can creative writing be taught? Yes. Should aspiring writers go to university to become better writers? Yes. So what do universities have to offer writers? They produce professionals.

The idea for a masters degree in creative writing in Glasgow came from Philip Hobsbaum, a former professor at the University of Glasgow who ran writers' groups informally in London, Belfast and Glasgow for more than 30 years. The list of writers who emerged from those groups reads like a who's who of contemporary literature: Seamus Heaney, Bernard MacLaverty, James Kelman, Liz Lochhead and Alasdair Gray.

Hobsbaum's vision was of a centre of excellence with writers at its heart, both as teachers and students. He believes, as I do, that aspiring writers learn best from practising professionals and to this end, a number of names have already been mentioned. But as well as those known first and foremost as writers, there are a number of poet- critics - Drew Milne, Rod Mengham, Linda Gregorson, Patricia Duncker and Simon Jarvis to name but a few - who may not have the public profile of those touted by the press but do have impeccable academic credentials. And there are many possible candidates in between, who are neither predominantly writers per se nor academics but who comfortably straddle both worlds. Our hope is that the new professor in creative writing, when appointed, will open the door to other writers as well as enabling students to achieve excellence in their writing.

Creative writing at university level is a school for success, not a hideaway for hermits. Of course many writers make it without studying creative writing in a higher education setting, or in any setting. But scratch the surface and you'll find an informal connection, a class system, an old boys network, or some other professional milieu. Talent is never enough. Good isn't good enough. To break through you need to ram-raid the bookshop. There may be writers out there who believe in art for art's sake and have the kind of integrity which means they won't soil themselves with institutions, with arts councils, with publishers, editors, agents, or courses in creative writing. Good luck to them.

Almost all the students who have taken the masters in creative writing in Glasgow over the past five years have paid their own fees. That's a considerable investment, especially when you think of the paltry living eked out even by writers viewed as established. Writers want to be read. They want rewards too. I'd be lying to my students if I said I didn't want some measure of success for each and every one of them, and not just in terms of publications, but bursaries and readings and residencies and competitions and awards and have I missed anything? Great expectations go with the territory.

Universities want returns, and so do the students willing to pay their way. So let's stop pretending it's for the good of literature and be upfront about it. We aim for success. We make no bones about pushing people into publishing. Intervening in the public sphere is what it's about, whether that's a slot at the Edinburgh Festival or a story on the internet.

Nothing succeeds like success, and nothing sucks like failure, disappointment, rejection. But even there a creative writing course can help by creating a supportive environment and reminding students of how many hoops established writers had to jump through in order to break through. Landon J Napoleon, our first graduate, sold his debut novel ZigZag - written in East Kilbride - to Bloomsbury (UK) and Henry Holt (US). It's now being made into a Hollywood film with a budget of $3.5 million, starring Wesley Snipes. Napoleon wrote to 85 agents before one caved in and took him on. He meant business. His background in corporate journalism helped, but it was vaulting ambition that drove him on, all the way to La-La Land. He had a PhD in applied persistence. What good is excellence without perspiration?

So as well as advising on craft and technique, creative writing tutors can encourage strategies of self-promotion, help with letters of approach to agents and editors, and urge writers to persist, since persistence is the key to professionalism. Academics aren't shy - as if! - but writers often are. Open up a window of opportunity and give them a good push. Alasdair Gray once compared the creative writing tutor to an usher, opening windows and doors and making sure that writers are comfortable and kept informed. He also refers to us academics - and it is arguably a more flattering description - as servants of the servants of art, the servants of art being the writers themselves.

In that regard, it's my view that academics have a continuing crucial role to play as servants and ushers, but if we really want to put Glasgow on the map as an international centre of excellence then we want a big name writer at the helm. Personally, I'm happy to loiter in the background, opening windows and doors Professor Willy Maley teaches creative writing at the University of Glasgow

Copyright 2001
Provided by ProQuest Information and Learning Company. All rights Reserved.