You sit down in a small room around a conference table with sixteen strangers. One of those strangers will decide how your artistic talent translates to a grade point average. You are a Creative Writing major because you didn’t know what else you wanted to do with your life. You’re a graduating senior and you wish you’d picked something that ended in Ology instead. You will spend almost three hours in the late afternoon here once a week until you graduate. You will be tired, hungry, bored, and foxholed.
