My last semester of university is a little insane

I started university in 2009 and have been studying part time ever since. I am finally in my final semester. I thought I was going to miss studying. It has provided a wonderful distraction for me and given me something to do. But I'm glad I am finishing and am looking forward to putting down my pen and reference book and not writing another essay for a very long time! I want to move on with my life and live my life and try and forge some sort of writing career for myself because right now at this point in my life writing is keeping me happy. I'm so glad I decided to step back from fiction writing and expand into other areas of writing because - holy shit! I've suddenly had SO much success with writing articles and it's just getting better and better. I am building a port folio and getting that wonderful, sweet experience. My goal is to be able to do this full time eventually and to be one of those people who wakes up every day happy to be doing something that gives them joy.

But...this last semester. My god. It's a little...intense. I have two essays to write, a play, a short story, and an exam. Oh and about eight novels to read. I've gotten through one and it was pretty good. I tried to get into two others and it was like having my fingernails pulled off one by one. Why...are some literature books...so badly written? I spent my childhood learning the craft of writing and throwing myself onto the sacrificial alter stone of critique and letting people tear me apart. I learnt how to take criticism with a smile and a nod an curt "Thank you for your time" and I willingly read grammar books in my spare time to learn how to write better.

So it annoys me after I spent so long to learn the rules that some writers take a big steaming crap on the rules and call it art and not only do they get published their books get made into frigging' films as well. I know art is subjective and what someone thinks is crap another person might think is the best thing since sliced bread. But I wonder sometimes what the hell is wrong with agents and publishers? I expect books to follow a predictable formula. I want to know WHO the main character is and WHAT is going on and WHAT the goal of the plot is all within the first few pages. What I don't want to read is pages and pages of incoherent ramblings that read like the crazed manifesto of a drug addict. It's just so exhausting. I wade through pages and pages of crap and try to think "Who the hell is the main character? what is going on? WHAT IS HAPPENING?"

It's fine to be creative and break the rules from time to time. Someone said to me once "Learn the rules, then learn how to break them" and it's true. The "rules" in writing are really suggestions. You can throw them out the window but it's risky as hell and you have to be damn good at what you are doing. Obviously, these books are not for me. It's going to be a long semester.