Get it – Write! The writing class taught me about life

The great philosopher Satchel Page said, “Don’t look back. Something might be gained from you.” Usually it’s me philosophy Too much. But sometimes it’s good to look back to see how you got your place today. It’s not always clear at this point. Time is mainly an illusion, but sometimes time is a gift. Sometimes we need a gift of time.

Years ago, when my kids were looking for things to do while they were in school, I was writing, doing housework, grocery shopping – I took writing classes at a local university. I was a writer for 25 years before that (I started at a very young age). But I thought: What the hell did I wonder? Why is it not good? I have no interest in anything else. This course was called “Reader/Writer” and met once a week from September to December. The course was for adults, but not for credit. That means I was able to relax more or less about improving my grades.

There were five women, three men, and three men, including teachers. We were a tense and intense group with a variety of life experiences. We immediately liked each other.

Our secondary goal was to read and discuss as much great literature as possible: “Emma” by Austin, “Anna Karenina” by Tolstoy, “David Copperfield” by Dickens. It is a very singular curriculum and was put together by our enthusiastic teachers. That basic theory was that if you really want to learn about writing good fiction, the 19th century is where it should be.

Our main goal was to write as quickly and often as possible. Most of us were working on “something.” Along the way, we got an assignment of options to fine-tune, needles and encourage us. It was a tough task, writing and rewriting all week, followed by how we read our precious prose (one is not too precious). We loved it more than anything else. Write as equal to breathing.

I have never taken a writing class before. Well, I’ll lie. So I took what you couldn’t attend in elementary, high school or university. I spent a day ago at a writer’s meeting, and the novelist was sure that the variety was far apart.

I avoided scholars in favor of deadlines, as they were raised by writers whose implicit motto was “just do it.” In the middle of college, a very nice newspaper took me under its wings, gave me a job and made a writer out of me.

Well, sort of.

Twenty years later, I survived writing six years of voluntary sabbaticals (during that time I did a lot of diaper changes and related activities), and I knew far more about things I didn’t know than I knew.

When I was young, when I wasn’t doing much in my life, I was sure I could do anything. After achieving some small miracles and majors the goalI didn’t know how I did that. I think the mirror has something to do with that. Lots of fast stories too. None of them are incredibly satisfying in the end. Ultimately, we need to acknowledge and cultivate the need to learn something. And to do more than just “just do it,” but do it well. The Beach Boys sang, “When you grab the waves, you sit on top of the world.” You need to learn what songs don’t say, first of all, how to surf.

It was the waves that took me to that little classroom in the fall of 1997 that I wanted to become a better writer. I think it was the same wave that took other classmates to that shore. And two hours a week, life is the beach, and eight of us absorbed the inspiration, sweat, and the pure endurance that makes up the art of writing.

We were cruelly honest with each other about things that didn’t work out in our writing. We were wonderfully enthusiastic about what worked.

Above all, we were kind to each other. No one had x to grind. We were armed and not dangerous. It was a safe place to come. Outside, it was a world of letters of rejection, not enough time, but rent. Inside, it was our man and literary master, a teacher whose love for reading and writing is so palpable, and we all believed. It made me believe that I can tell the truth while creating stories. The fiction was, in essence, a fact.

Now I am no longer one of my new conversions. Take you to writing classes for everyone who loves word work and wordplay. Please take that pottery course next year. Find a group bound by a shared bond, a love for tasks. We do not accept replacements. Just doing that, I think you’re doing it pretty well.

You’ll run out of excuses and realize that your dog won’t eat your homework and someone has to fill in that empty page. It will be wiped out a few times, but sooner or later you will be seized by the waves and sitting at the top of the world.

I was going to take the class as one. Like a few others, I ended up taking it over and over.

Sometimes we choose to never regret it. Here are the four best decisions for my fab: marry my husband, have children, become a writer and take on a continuous offering of writing classes education Department of Sarah Lawrence College.