I think I’ve settled on a goal of finishing up a masters in English. I started down that path almost nine years ago, flailed, and bailed. I wasn’t quite ready then, but I think I’m ready now. Of course, I’m plagued by the notion that maybe the flailing and bailing that I did was because, deep down, I’m just not really capable of competing that level of study or, you know, any kind of advanced level of anything.
The more and more I think of fully and officially committing myself to the goal, the more and more nervous I get about the sheer amount of time that’s passed between obtaining my undergraduate degree in English and the classes I’m poised to take. It’s been a decade.
The nervousness isn’t completely unfounded either. I took a class this past spring semester and it was a struggle. I didn’t fail and it was a valuable experience, but I should have done so much better. I expect more from myself than I delivered this spring and I will absolutely have to do better moving forward.
To that end, I’ve decided to do a little “boning up” before fall semester starts. I’m starting with the book pictured above. It has 33 chapters beginning with “literature” and covering everything from “genre” to “memory” to “critical writing” and so on. If I read one chapter per day, occasionally two, I can have the book finished by the time August rolls around and, hopefully, I’ll have remembered more of what I learned when I got that B.A. in English all those years (and three kids) ago!