After the glory of finding a wonderful new writing group, I coasted into my new (first, since college) class/workshop.... I figured everything would be glorious, until (of course) the workshop-ers discovered I was young and not especially "literary" and everything hit SPLAT!
Ok, so maybe it was the horrible drive there, and maybe it was the horrible drive back (where is everyone going on a Saturday afternoon?!)-- maybe the actual class won't be bad. God knows I can't give up after the one session.. I've been counting on this workshop:
1. Giving me revision guidance (I've never revised a novel-length story before, and after beating my head against the wall for months, I realize I need help).
2. Giving me a place to workshop with committed, open-minded, experienced writers.
3. Giving me a chance to meet more published writers, and hopefully, get a little guidance from them, too-- or, from the teacher, at least.
On the one hand, the group does seem serious, friendly, and interesting. And the teacher seems confident.
But on the other: she seemed so *so* so incredibly dismissive of anything without "literary" stamped across it. And at the tail-end of class she asked for questions, but didn't actually answer any (she seemed in a huge rush to leave). In fact, we didn't learn a damn thing today.
This class is costing me a few hundred dollars-- dollars which I desperately need. I'm going to stick with it, because I do think some of the writers will be valuable as "eyes"... but I've never felt like a second class citizen-- or so pre-judged-- based on 1. my age 2. my concept before.
OOOOOH wait, not true. That's exactly how I felt last time I went to an event at this writing center. Which led to a long period of shaken-up clogged-up horribly unproductive mess.
The atmosphere at this center might just be wrong for me; it's so stodgy, and you can cut the desperation there with a knife. All these grizzled gray-heads running around looking anxious and WAY too smiley. There aren't any schools around here with programs I can actually afford, and the community writer's groups are generally too loosey goosey-- I'm usually the most experienced person in them.
Of course, I seem to be at least one of the most experienced people in this workshop, too.
How horrible is that? By experienced, I mean that I've churned out a lot of material, participated in a lot of workshops (and writers' groups, at this point), read all the how-to books and articles, belong to all the forums, have gone as far as I possibly can on my own, in terms of learning craft, stretching myself, and committing myself to writing. Of course, I've never published anything outside of school, and feel like a gigantic failure.
Maybe I should start some kind of (online?) group for young writers? Only 22-25 year old's allowed? What's the solution? Who can help? Why must everyone be falsely smiley and seething with jealousy? Or alternatively, so dismissive they barely look you in the face? Why can't everyone just chillax a bit?
Though, when all these "literary" premises could be solved by giving the protagonist a weed stash maybe I shouldn't be surprised that everyone seems so anxious and uptight.
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