Creative Writing MFA programs have always struck us as a bit of a scam. We mean, we respect that they provide workshop-leading jobs for writers who are qualified for little else, and we admire the work they do in the 'keeping entitled assholes who consider themselves artistes far away in Iowa where they can't annoy us' department. But seriously, we don't think that having a bunch of jealous, bitter, insecure writerly types sitting in a room sniping at each other shapes anyone into a better novelist (except maybe Curtis Sittenfeld. Uh, and George Saunders. Well, so there are some exceptions, but it makes us feel better to think that MFAs are pointless so just let us, okay?). Anyway, it was with relief and a bit of awe that we read this letter to Salon's 'Since You Asked' column, from an MFA student who seems to have seen the light: