I did a degree in reading

You heard me, I did a degree in reading. Well, English Literature. But that's what people assume a degree in English Literature boils down to, and I suppose in part that they're right. There is a lot of reading involved in what I have done for the past three years, but that isn't all there is to it.

A degree in English Literature gives you no particular career outcome; when you do a graduate search for jobs in humanities and arts subjects there isn't much there. Most of us are hopeful writers, wannabe journalists, publishing interns. I am the former sadly, a wanabee writer who aches to have people clamouring to read what she has to say. I don't just mean on this blog either, oh no! I want to write books. Oh yes, that grand old tale. Not only am I a wannabe writer, I am a wannabe author.

I remember once reading a statistic which defiantly told me that less than 1% of manuscripts which reach a publisher's desk actually manage to get published, and I am not ashamed to say that it is this notion which has haunted me ever since. The feeling of failure has dogged me ever since, in spite of the fact being that I have not yet sent any manuscripts away to even try for publishing. I am a foggy writer, still caught up in myself and my words, playing with the way they look across the page and watching the word count rollercoaster its way no closer to a finish.

The truth is that my degree has little to do with my hopes of being a writer; I did not study creative writing after all, which at least would have prompted me to step outside of my comfort zone creatively. Rather I studied the works of others, in the hopes of learning how to do it myself. I inspired myself plenty in the process, I have to admit, but I also dissauded myself as well. So few writers are successful, so few admired. And for every shred of admiration they receive, they receive three times that in criticisms.

Studying English Literature therefore, does not teach you how to be a writer yourself, nor is it as simple as merely reading a book and writing a little about it. No, over the past three years I have studied not only literature, but aspects of language, history, and psychology. Due to my studies in literature I know more now about cultural dimensions than I did three years ago, and I have contextual evidence for my opinions.

But yes, I just read books.

So how does it feel to have received a degree in something which gives me no definite career prospects, and makes most people look at me like I have done an extended A Level course for the past three years ('but you just... read?') I hear you ask?

More than a little pissed off.