Checking Sarah Weinman's Massive Weekend Update (TM), I came across an item from a creative writing prof with whom I studied at Hofstra. Probably the most famous name in the department (though I hadn't heard of him), several teachers recommended I take a workshop with him until—in junior year—I did.
My experience was less than ideal. When my first story was up for critique, I got a heck of a wake-up call. Several students in class had had the teacher before, and they agreed with everything he said. I was left to pick copies of my story off the floor. Two friends waited to exit the building with me, the only sign I wasn't an amoeba.
Luckily, the experience sparked a fire in me. I decided I would meet the teacher's expectations and write work I believed in. Today, that's what I do whenever I submit to a new market: write something that fits both the guidelines and my developing voice.
So, in the second-greatest irony, that class—the only time I studied with that teacher—was both my worst and my best. If nothing else, it cemented my resolve to write.
The greatest irony, by the way, was sharing an office with said teacher some years later. A couple of times when he was out of the office, I took calls from his fans:
"Isn't he the greatest?"
"Um, yeah."
No comments:
Post a Comment