2AM Traffic

I showed up to class about 15 minutes early. Joe mentioned that he read my material and said that I was a terrific writer, though my stuff isn't flawless. Nice praise. My piece is being looked at today, and I'm ready to hear about it. Though I've always found writers workshops a bad idea, I'm beginning to see what really justifies their existence: people actually READ what you're writing. They ENGAGE with your ideas rather than simply telling you that what you're writing is "good" or being impressed that you can write a story when it really isn't something they'd be interested in.

Lisa Moore talked yesterday about writing groups and I was jealous of her words. I've known writers and never experienced what she was talking about - people taking each other to task, being relentless, helping each other, never being competitive, and always prepared to take the wind out of a colleague's sails. She told a fantastic story about how Michael Winter wrote her a fake acceptance letter that gave her backhanded praise when she was waiting in the wings to hear from a publishing house. I'm becoming aware once again that I have to TRAIN myself to read, to pick up a person's book or story, get through it, acknowledge how it makes me feel and tell them. I've believed in the importance of this since University but I needed to be told. I needed to hear it, not say it. I needed it to be reinforced. I needed a writer to tell me the truth.

I had lunch with a woman named Stacey who has travelled around and worked in different countries and makes it sound easy. We exchanged great words about how getting older means you care less and less about being introverted and socially awkward and are perfectly willing to sit and listen. I have had that nervous feeling in my belly a few times this week because I essentially know no one at the college except for Kim, but each day has been a fantastic experience because I've grabbed food and sat down at a table and talked to people. It's so refreshingly easy.

Reps from ECW and Anansi came in to speak about smaller presses. Karen Connelly gave a talk on poetry, the power of words and literature she was currently enjoying. Afterwards Kim and I picked up some groceries and watched a documentary on wild mustangs still roaming the mountain foothills of BC. Matt came home with a copy of Wonder Boys, which was a movie I HAD to see this week for the 900th time.

Three more days.