Being a two-time Super-Senior in the making, I spend a lot of time on the SUNY Brockport website (as I am a student there). For the sake of curiosity, I clicked on the “What can I do with a major in…” link provided by the portion of the internet dedicated to SUNY Brockport. After all, people (read: nosy family members) are constantly asking me what I plan on doing after college, with a degree in Creative Writing. I thought I might find something there that sounds more professional than, “Um, I dunno…write something?”
But wouldn’t you know it, and are you even surprised? Creative Writing isn’t even an option. English is, and in that list it gives you the option of “jingle writing,” which may or may not include transcribing the actions of dangling body parts, as is my understanding. But I’m getting a Creative Writing degree, and if I tell professors that I’m an English major instead of a Creative Writing major, they’ll assume something very different about the classes I’m taking. So where’s my link, huh? Where’s my list of potential jobs?
Spoiler alert: there are none. Except for what you’re currently reading.
It’s all right, though. I don’t want a mansion or anything big or fancy in my life because I am waayyy too destructive for nice things. As long as I never have to own a mini-fridge ever again, and never have to Tetris my shit into ten square inches of space only to have it tumble down like Jenga just for taking out a yogurt, I’ll be the happiest girl in the world. Besides, I’m pretty sure if Creative Writing was an option there it would say something like, “You can sell out and write vampire porn for kids or you can buy a lot of cats. Get a real job, hippie.” And I’d say, “Screw you, site! You’re not even real, you’re abstract and some nerd created you!”
And the site would say, “Rude…” And I’d say, “Sorry, um…sorry. That was low.”
And the site would say, “Yeah, it was…oh, wait, that’s right, I don’t have feelings because I’m a freakin’ website, so I’ll never have to worry about money like YOU, Miss I-Can-Make-An-English-Degree-An-Even-Worse-Idea.”
And I’d say, “YOU SUCK, SITE!”
And it would say, “Does not compute, mother fucker.”
And I’d say, “YOUR LAYOUT MAKES YOU LOOK FAT!”
And it would say, “SO DOES YOUR HUMAN FLESH, FATASS!”
And I’d say, “YOU ARE TECHNOLOGY AND YOU LIVE TO SERVE ME, YOU ICY INTERNET BITCH, QUIT THAT BACKTALK THIS MINUTE! Also, do I really look fat?”
And then they’d put the straightjacket on me for yelling at a computer and I’d spend the rest of my days with a needle shooting sunshine and rainbows into my arm. And that, dear children, is what you can do with a major in Creative Writing.
But wouldn’t you know it, and are you even surprised? Creative Writing isn’t even an option. English is, and in that list it gives you the option of “jingle writing,” which may or may not include transcribing the actions of dangling body parts, as is my understanding. But I’m getting a Creative Writing degree, and if I tell professors that I’m an English major instead of a Creative Writing major, they’ll assume something very different about the classes I’m taking. So where’s my link, huh? Where’s my list of potential jobs?
Spoiler alert: there are none. Except for what you’re currently reading.
It’s all right, though. I don’t want a mansion or anything big or fancy in my life because I am waayyy too destructive for nice things. As long as I never have to own a mini-fridge ever again, and never have to Tetris my shit into ten square inches of space only to have it tumble down like Jenga just for taking out a yogurt, I’ll be the happiest girl in the world. Besides, I’m pretty sure if Creative Writing was an option there it would say something like, “You can sell out and write vampire porn for kids or you can buy a lot of cats. Get a real job, hippie.” And I’d say, “Screw you, site! You’re not even real, you’re abstract and some nerd created you!”
And the site would say, “Rude…” And I’d say, “Sorry, um…sorry. That was low.”
And the site would say, “Yeah, it was…oh, wait, that’s right, I don’t have feelings because I’m a freakin’ website, so I’ll never have to worry about money like YOU, Miss I-Can-Make-An-English-Degree-An-Even-Worse-Idea.”
And I’d say, “YOU SUCK, SITE!”
And it would say, “Does not compute, mother fucker.”
And I’d say, “YOUR LAYOUT MAKES YOU LOOK FAT!”
And it would say, “SO DOES YOUR HUMAN FLESH, FATASS!”
And I’d say, “YOU ARE TECHNOLOGY AND YOU LIVE TO SERVE ME, YOU ICY INTERNET BITCH, QUIT THAT BACKTALK THIS MINUTE! Also, do I really look fat?”
And then they’d put the straightjacket on me for yelling at a computer and I’d spend the rest of my days with a needle shooting sunshine and rainbows into my arm. And that, dear children, is what you can do with a major in Creative Writing.
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