On Writing, By: me...not Stephen King

My creative writing course is sadly coming to a close.  I had fun and definitely took away new techniques to improve my writing (we'll see if I actually use them).

If anyone is looking for an excellent book to help with the art of writing, I would highly recommend my textbook for this course: Writing Fiction: A Guide to Narrative Craft by Janet Burroway and Elizabeth Stuckey-French.

During week one of class I read a quote in this compilation of short stories, lectures, practical methods, and unique exercises, that will probably slosh around in my brain for the rest of my life.

"The best fiction comes from the place where the terror hides, the edge of our worst stuff.  I believe, absolutely, that if you do not break out in that sweat of fear when you write, then you have not gone far enough." - Dorothy Allison

This is true.  And this is scary.

I did quite well grade wise in this class, but my most impressive grade and professor feedback came from an assignment that I wept through as I wrote.  The prompt entailed writing a dialogue between two characters who are having a hard time communicating.

I wrote inspired by a dear friend of mine who said something to me that week.  And then I wrote what had been in my heart for the past three years.  

What I wish had been said years ago.  

What I wish I had said that week.  

What I wish no one would ever know.

I cried as the characters played out the conversation I longed to have myself.  When it was completed, I was frightened by my honesty.  I considered deleting the entire work: something that had escaped from the pages of my journals to be seen by someone else's eyes.

Finally, after much self-consoling, I submitted the assignment, convincing myself that my professor in grading will look past my personal life, and probably won't even know it's a topic that isn't entirely fiction. (On second thought, what good piece of writing isn't inspired by real life events?...uh oh.  Abort! Abort!)

A few days later when grades were posted, I saw that he was impressed.  

Every piece I've written since then has seemed safe and boring.  There's no wow factor without vulnerability.

Unfortunately, Dorothy Allison, you're right.

And I'm terrified.