Woolgathering in class

This afternoon I attended the first of a series of writing workshops being taught at our public library. 

As we introduced ourselves, I thought what a varied spectrum of voices we represented-each human, unique in personality, in appearance, in background, etc. 

We went around the table, telling what we liked to read, and what genre we kinda/sorta hoped to write. 

Eventually, our writing instructor gave us a prompt, and we were invited to read what we wrote, the idea being that we would attempt to come up with a strong beginning, something that would entice readers to want to read on. 

I spent most of my time thinking about WHAT it was I wanted to start. 

I SAID I was an essayist, but what I actually started was a fictitious story. 

As I listened to each person read, I enjoyed our different voices. I enjoyed the sound of them. I enjoyed the spirit of them, the individual personalities reflected in each person. 

And yet. I’ll bet I wasn’t the only one with a little voice pecking away in the back of my brain saying I really had nothing of value to say. 

But that’s not true. 

We are all vastly interesting stories in the making. Our loves, our dislikes, our hurts, our dreams and passions, our quirks…each of us is a masterpiece, really, if we were translated to paper. 

However, fear holds us captive a lot of the time. We worry too much about what people will think. 

What if we had the courage to reveal a little more of ourselves, if we honestly believed our stories were as valid as the next person’s? Who knows what poetry, memoirs or  novels we might create? 

I also noticed that most who read aloud from their prompt assignment had not written in the genre they said they were interested in writing.

I think what came out of us was something we didn’t really anticipate in most cases, almost in voices we didn’t recognize. 

Who the heck are we?!? Lol. 

The whole writing process is just crazy, that we could each pull such different ideas out of our heads in just a few minutes.

Our ability as humans to communicate is fascinating, whether it be spoken, written, sung, painted, sculpted, etc.

Thus began the first chapter of my new novel. 😆