I spent today at a writer's workshop, where my sister-in-law P-Dawg was my partner in grime.
TWO THINGS THAT DROVE ME INSANE, PROBABLY A SIGN OF THE TIMES (OTHER THAN, OF COURSE, THE PEOPLE)
1) There was no clock in the classroom. And you didn't wanna insult the teacher by checking your cell phone. I wanted to run across the room and throw myself out the window. No clock = fucking nuts.
2) Once the teacher told us her name, I was squirming to look her up online. I seem incapable of moving on in life unless I've googled you first.
TWO REGRETS, HANGING IN THE AIR LIKE MATZAH BALLS:
1) In the beginning we went around the room saying our names and what project we were working on. I really wanted to say "I'm writing THE definitive 600-page novel on German shit porn." But I didn't.
2) We did some writing exercies, and then some people would read theirs aloud. You can imagine what they were like. I never read mine, but I really wanted to volunteer and then launch into "I was jerking off, my big fucking hog balls slapping the toilet bowl..." etc. But I didn't.
I also find it odd that the program is called The Gotham Writers Workshop, and no one made a Batman joke. Hmm.
2 comments:
You could insert "But I didnt" into the "TWO THINGS" as well.
But you didnt.
Read btw the lines Xmas!
i remember being in a writing workshop in college and an older woman wrote a story about her boyfriend "tea-bagging" her. i had no idea what she was talking about. oh youth!
another guy wrote about secretly watching his babysitter "debate with herself".
i think you should of "gone there". isn't that what writing workshops are for? to let the freak out?
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