Back to School
This spring I decided to go back to class. I'm taking Master Fiction with Ellen Litman through Grub Street.
Last Tuesday was my first class. I knew it would be great to once again be surrounded by fellow writers and to talk shop. I thought I might even learn a thing or two. Wow, did I underestimate the class.
I forgot how much easier it is to see problems in fiction when you're closely line editing someone's work and how easy it is to then make the leap to your own less than perfect drafts. It leads to so many aha! moments. For that alone, the class is well worth what I paid.
But it's also just terrific to be among people who want you to succeed, who recognize the implicit struggle in writing (and publication) and whose criticisms are meant to make you and your stuff better. Facing my first book critics in the not too distant future, I doubt they'll have the same kind intentions.
I'm reading more carefully, and paying more attention to the rhythm of my words (possibly not on display here, since I've just finished editing two stories and revising my own for tomorrow's class).
It's good to be a student again.