I attended a great writing class at the library last night. It was
a free workshop for aspiring as well as established writers. Today I happened
to be in the presence of six seasoned writers! Yes, my very first time in
actually interacting with real writers. I
came in a few minutes late as I could not find the conference room, and
happened to walk into the room when a very animated conversation was going
on. The leader of the group (who I later found out was children's book writer)
gestured to me asking me to come sit up front. The conversation continued and
it was about a whole new world that I had never heard of. Editors and what they
are like. A whole new world this was.
They talked at length about genres and styles and prose. I will
admit that for someone who just writes sputtering journal entries it
was fascinating to actually see writers in action. I got my very first
glimpse into the world of writing. It was fascinating and I will admit a bit
intimidating to see how these people accomplish so much material (real and
imagined) from within themselves. I could not help but wonder - where does all
this come from? Do I have it in me? Are people born with the ability to write
and imagine? - As my thoughts took me into many different directions (as it
always does) there was a burst of laughter by the group, and I was come back to
the room. I just let myself listen. I listened to the children's book writer
(Ms. M) talk. She spoke to the room at length about her experiences with
editors in New York and how traditional they still are deep down. I
also learnt that her experience with editors had mostly been about them
approving books that they personally liked and not thinking of what the
population it was written for would like. She also talked about her having a
"few beers with a bunch of editors in New York" and how networking is
the key to moving forward in this world! Oh My God - I thought - networking?! What
was that ? There is no way on earth I can ever build a network here. While all
this was going on in my mind - Once again I had to struggle to bring my
attention back to the room just let myself listen. The conversation was
extremely animated and Ms. M spoke with her hands and she kept pacing up and
down the length of the board. She had drawn three columns on the board. The
first one - “MA" - middle aged, the second “YA" - Young adult and the
third "Adult". Under each column she had roughly jotted down what
each of these genres generally contain in terms of material. She proceeded to
educate us about how they are not watertight and sometimes one can spill
over into the other. For example she said "Harry Potter". It so
happens that Harry Potter's first three books are for the Young Adult and then
the last four books spill over into the Adult genera. She further
explained that this happened because of the obvious dark subject matter in the
last four books. I had just learnt something totally new that had never
even crossed my mind when I wrote. Genres! Well she asked us to identify
which genre we instinctively belong to. My mind immediately went into thinking -
well maybe I could write a children's story, but then again not, well what I
would write about - blah blah blah. And here we go again, once again my mind
went into numerous different directions until it finally came back 10 minutes
later and I said to myself ”Adult". Obviously. I have no stories to
tell to children. As yet at least.
There were six people in the room. One elderly man who kept
interrupting Ms. M when she was talking. He kept asking redundant questions. It
seemed that he liked to hear himself speak. Then there was another local writer
who is in the process of publishing her first children's book. She had her
infant baby with her. She and Ms. M got along very well and seemed to be on the
same wave length. Then there was Karl, Harriett and Rose. At the end
of the workshop I instantly connect with Harriett and Karl. Harriett was
this sweet, sweet lady in her 60s with a warm smile on her face throughout
the workshop. It seemed as though she was completely at comfort with
everything. She was friendly and had a warming and welcoming energy about her.
At the end of the class she rolled her wheel chair out and put on a very ornate
and happy looking hat and shook my hand. She asked me to come back next week.
Karl was the moderator and organizer of this workshop who had at
first what I thought was a school principal sort of energy about him, but
later found him to be terribly sweet and terribly serious both at the same
time. He shook my hand warmly and knowingly at the end of the class. It
seemed that he and Harriett were good friends.
A great first class is all I can say. Feels like the right place for
me. :-)
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