Whew!

My last workshop of the semester is over. The outcome is more of what I've heard before: "What's at stake here?" That will be my writing challenge from now on - to figure out how to make the conflict in my writing stronger and better. Rebecca also wants me to make the stories less conveniently resolved. That issue has a lot to do with the lack of conflict, though. She was still encouraging. She told me she enjoys my writing and the way I have with words. To keep writing stories and writing stories until I get it right.

A few comments from classmates made my day brighter: one said short fiction is my niche and I need to stick with it and make it work for me; another said that although it was nine pages it felt far from it and it flowed really well; one girl told me she really related to this story and she liked the whole thing.

Writing makes me happier than anything else I do in life. I think I mentioned that once, I don't know... It's what I want to do with my life. I want to tell stories and sit at a computer for hours trying to get the words to flow. I want people to read my writing and feel something big coming from inside those little words. There is so much fear in writing and being read that I have yet to overcome. It's another dimension of the anxiety that holds me back from what I desire most out of life. I imagine that a life working in a library and surrounded by books would hold some satisfaction for me if that's where I end up, but writing is the challenge that I believe will fulfill me much more.

I'm going to anthro soon, then to work out. Later.

Somebody Cares!

My sister, Theresa, sent me a care package! So sweet of her. I was happy to find gluten-free crackers and pizza crust, along with cute socks, a container for vegetables and dip, gum, and a magazine called Mental Floss (lol!).

I've never heard of Mental Floss. Apparently it's a brainy type mag filled with interesting little facts. It's definitely not a stuffy, esoteric rag, though. I like.

I have a question: I want to join two different honor societies. I can't choose between the two. Can I join both?

Finally, I get one of the workshops over with today. I saw a girl from my class at the computers in the library last night. She asked me about one of the writers who was missing from tomorrow's line-up and I told her that the writer was auditing the class and probably chose not to post a story this time. But that's not really where I'm going with this . . .

. . . so anyway, I was flattered when she told me how much she liked my story. She said she knew someone like my boss (whom I was profiling), and that she felt the emotion in the piece. It made me feel fantastic. Thank you Ansley! I have to remember that conversation today so I don't worry about workshop for hours and make myself sick.

Take a Chance On Me

I wanted to post last night but I was just too tired! I was feeling stressed yesterday about something and it sucked all of my energy out of me.

In January, there was a contest for creative nonfiction writing offered by the English department. I was determined to submit my essay about my trip to New Orleans. I had written it for English 413 and my professor gave me an A+. She said she rarely lavished the kind of praise she gave me but she really liked my writing. She even suggested that I submit it to the contest.

I wanted to make some revisions and make it better, so I emailed the story to my sister and asked for her feedback. She wrote back that it was good, and that once she realized that nothing was going to happen she liked it a lot more.

I couldn't get past that comment. Nothing happened in my story. It completely destoryed any esteem I had for the piece. I couldn't submit it and I let the due date go by.

I regret that now. I'm in a creative nonfiction writing class, and most of the stories the students write are about divorce, parents, abuse, and alcohol. Seldom do I ever read an essay that is sophisticated and well-written. I'm sure the judges would have been pleased to come across my well-written essay about a light-hearted topic like a vacation trip. I hate regret.

The English department sent an email a few days ago that the scholarship deadline had been pushed back to Friday. I looked over the scholarships and I qualify to apply for four of the six. I decided that it was worth a try. If I get a scholarship, I can stay at UTC for an extra semester and study writing more.

I wrote the letter of interest that they require with the application and I was going to have one of the librarians proof read it for me, but I started to chicken out. I didn't want anyone to read my ambitions and laugh at me. I told a co-worker about it and she encouraged me to go through with it. I did. The librarian told me that the letter was great.

I made a few revisions on it later and printed it out. I signed it and clipped it to the application. It is now sitting in a folder to be turned in and I'm scared. I don't know who's going to read it and what they'll think of me. Will they think my writing is bad? That I should give up on my dreams? Am I unworthy of their assistance? These are the fears I have in my head, the thoughts that threaten to make me give up and have another regret. I'm afraid, but I need to do this anyway. The more I open up and take risks like this, the more chances I take of being accepted instead of rejected.

A Reversal of Expectations

Today ended very differently than I expected. I thought I would fail the quiz this afternoon in forensic anthropology, I thought I wouldn't make any progress on my anxiety, and I thought I would still be clueless about my apathy regarding school.

I didn't feel like my conversation with my counselor this morning led me toward what was troubling me with school, but after my applied anthropology class I studied with a classmate for the quiz. I had fun studying with someone, when I usually study alone. I got an A on the exam pretty much because of today's study session. It was encouraging.

During applied anthropology I actually contributed to the discussion. I know these things sound trivial, but seriously, these are big deals to me. I never speak up in class discussions unless I'm called on. The fact that I offered something without being asked to is major. I need to do that more. I'm going to try to next time I'm in class.

I'm working on myself here. I have goals that seem impossible to reach, but I want to get there anyway. I want to write and be published, but I have so much fear about rejection and exposure. I want to be able to speak in front of people, to instruct or lead a discussion if the necessity arises. I have to start small: going to the gym by myself; writing honestly for essays; speaking in class discussions.

Eventually I want to try to get published, and I want to work in an academic library. I just have to get over my fears.