Today was Day 1 of Introduction to Creative Writing, an online class I enrolled in through the local community college. I have been wanting to take a class (in anything) for a while now, and wanting to improve my writing always, so this seemed like a perfect step. Not sure why it took me so long.
Day 1, for those of you who have never taken Introduction to Creative Writing in an online format, involves reading a brief lesson (which consisted mostly of encouragement that we are already writers, even if we aren't published--or even good--and that we just need to practice) and then practicing free writing. Free writing is an exercise in futility for the perfectionist. Or so I'm told. One simply takes a pen in hand (or a keyboard on the lap) and writes for a set amount of time. Whatever comes into your head. Some call it "stream of consciousness writing". No planning. No restructuring. No editing. No even fixing typos. Gah! I may not make it to Day 2.
Our class is composed of at least 2 dozen aspiring writers from around the globe (apparently Introduction to Creative Writing is very popular in Australia. Not kidding.) ranging in age from 14 to 73. We have students, teachers, mothers, grandmothers, military brats, and me. I'm sure the experience, talent, and attention to grammar is going to be vastly different among us. I'm told we'll each work on a piece throughout the 8 weeks that should be completed by the end. A finished creative work. You may even get to read it, if you're lucky.
For now, I'm excited to be a student again. After all, doing it for 24 years, I've gotten pretty good at it.
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