Thursday, November 10, 2011

An affair...with a story

It was a cold and rainy day... I'm kidding.
I had my writing class this morning, and am full of impressions.
Also, I'm back in my blog inspiration zone cafe, with my latte and alfajor. My mother would say: "you'll grow a latte in your stomach."
Hardly, I have it every other day.
So, my writing class. Fifteen of us, and all but three had their stories read. My expert analysis so far: we have one female writer in it, who is definitely going to be published, maybe even successful. She is so talented. And I know what you are thinking, and I'm flattered, but I'm not talking about myself here. She's real, people.
Everyone else is either a beginner, or isn't talented. I can't tell. I need more than one story to decide which.
Yes, there were a few cute stories, but except for one (and one of mine, of course, but I'll play modest outside of parenthesis) everything else was mediocre at best.
To be honest, some are probably just making the same mistakes I did when I first started writing fiction, with journalistic background. Their style is too non-fictiony, too dry. "This happened, then that happened, then this. The end." But that aside, if the story is really strong, that can be fixed, can be learned, can be rewritten.
So, I think, at this point of my writing, I can spot a talent.
In my writing group, I have many more very talented people. And it's great! We all seem to want each other to succeed. Maybe we are a little competitive, but in the best sense of the word. Competitiveness that drives you to get better, to perfect yourself.
As my Facebook friends know, I have finished a new story (yay) two days ago, and I can honestly say I'm in love with it.
I wrote it in one breath, in about three hours. That's how I write.
Then I left it alone until the evening, and touched it up a bit. Then a touched it up, just a tiny bit yesterday as well. But the reason I keep reading it is because I enjoy every word.
And I'm so excited about presenting it to my writing group!
It's like it's my little baby, and I'm so proud.
p.s. If you're thinking I need therapy, maybe you shouldn't keep reading my blog. It's just going to get worse from here...

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