The Journey

Good morning one and all! It is no coincidence that it is journey day because I have definitely travelled as a writer.

I went to my second short story class last night and, never having experienced a class quite like that before, sat in silence for at least half an hour taking it all in ( and thinking I could still run if I chose to!). We devoted the first hour to one story and the second hour to the other. The stories were very different and the frank discussion of the first half hour overwhelmed me at first.

I listened to the other writers' comments and finally made some of my own. As I spoke I suddenly became part of the group, like another voice in the choir. I saw some things that the others hadn't and I realized I was expanding the knowledge of the group and I was relieved.

I hadn't realized that going to the workshop made me feel a little out of my comfort zone and, well, vulnerable!

I have been to seminars, workshops and have been critiqued extensively by other writers and editors under work situations, but this was a room full of my peers. Very different indeed.

Everyone was constructive with their comments, polite with their praise and concerns. No one let their ego get in the way of the discussions.

At the end of the night Mikhail asked for two volunteers for next week. The man sitting next to me volunteered fairly quickly, but the fear on the other writers' faces was very plain indeed. So, being the risk taker that I am, I volunteered for next week.

Well, you may think the story ends there, but it does not.

I woke up during the night thinking about the class. I just knew, just know that this class will be invaluable to me on many different levels. I fell back to sleep around 5am and had a nasty nightmare. The content of the nightmare doesn't really matter, though it was all set at the Atwater Library, so I'm sure you have an idea where I'm going with this.

Obviously sending in my story has made me feel very vulnerable indeed. I know this is not uncommon. Christiane Northrup, before her first edition of Women's Bodies, Women's Wisdom, had a similar type of nightmare where she was naked in public, or something along those lines.

She concluded that she felt so exposed when her book was about to hit the book stores that this was the way her psyche was letting her know.

Yes, I can relate. I was surprised, however. I have handled lots of criticism from my peers in a work environment. So why was this so different? I never had nightmares about writing before.

What's so different here? Well, being surrounded by my peers talking about my story in great detail will feel like they are removing layers of my creation. So much of what I write is unconscious, yet conscious too. I know why I have included the details I have, the dialogue I have and written the characters the way I have. But will the other writers see what I see? Does that even matter?

That's the question. I have sent the story (before writing this blog so I didn't chicken out) and I will listen to their comments with an open mind. In other words, I will check my ego at the door.
My short story came from within me but it is not me. And there are many more where it came from.