Figuring out how I am going to put together my next book, and taking a writing workshop

Guess that sums it up.  I thought up a fairly good idea today, putting together (finally!) for the first time, sort of a mental outline of how I’m going to at least start off the book and some kind of framework.  I like my idea a whole bunch.

I signed up for a class.  A one-day workshop that will take place in a couple of weeks. It’s only a few hours long and I think I’ll do fine.

Please, please, please, don’t let my body be sick that day!  It’s hit or miss….I was supposed to go to a writing group yesterday and I was so sick I couldn’t go. Felt like a total idiot because I had to cancel.  I had an unbearable headache and felt like I was on the verge of puking for hours on end.  For no reason.  No, no “stomach flu” and I hadn’t eaten anything shouldn’t have eaten.  Probably just the kidney disease acting up. That’s my life now.  I hope I’m not sick the day of the class, cuz it means money down the drain.

I don’t want to cancel AGAIN.  I’m tired of being a no-show.


2 thoughts on “Figuring out how I am going to put together my next book, and taking a writing workshop”

    1. Natasha, it’s a mixed bag going to a writing class post-Goddard. I went to one WONDERFUL writing class mid-Goddard that worked out nicely. This is what happened….

      I had pretty much told no one the whole story about what occurred at Plainfield. I was rather different back then, on the wimpy side compared to now, plus drugged out of my mind. If you were to ask Dr. P, she claimed I was “happy.” I was anything but!

      I’d been quite driven in undergrad, always a go-getter, ambitious student, hard worker. I graduated May 2003. Finished in July. Joe died about three weeks later. You can imagine. That plus extreme rapid weight gain from Seroquel was really doing me in. By January 2004, when I began Goddard as a G1, I was a good 50 pounds overweight. I was sluggish and hated my body, really had no clue what was causing it, and my therapist kept telling me to “accept myself.” I couldn’t concentrate on my studies at all! This wasn’t me! Natasha, you know how ambitious I am usually. Next semester was worse, even more sluggish, still apathetic and sleepy, slurred speech, horrible complexion, and more pounds put on. Still, I had no clue it was the drug. Finally, October came and guess where I ended up? The slammer. I just gave up.

      Kenny let me finish the semester in the spring, and I showed up and did that winter res in January but not as an officially enrolled student. I felt like a tag-along. This was when I weighed more than double what I weigh now. The writing students were quite kind, but there was this other program happening at the same time and those students were the ones that bullied me about my weight. Of course, now, I’ve come out with the story, but I kept all that inside for years. I haven’t told anyone officially at the college, but I think someone should know that it happened.

      So, yeah, must’ve been March, I felt devastated, ended up in the slammer again. That’s when those dumb social workers and doctors said that line to me that I didn’t belong in grad school and I should attend day treatment…and I was so talented at knitting, they said, I should join a knitting group. not even recognizing that I had any talent at all as a writer. This wonderful little quote from them, of course, I stole and used in my graduation speech years later. They seriously warned me that if I didn’t take their advice, I was fucked.

      Natasha, that’s when I took an adult ed course. It took three tries. The first two times, I couldn’t do it. My self esteem had been crushed by all the docs who told me I was incapable and dependent on them. I had insisted on getting off the Seroquel and my doc warned me, of course, that I’d become “unstable,” but I was feeling so much better off the drug! I was blogging a whole lot more, too. Our teacher got interested in my blog, really excited. He told us about a local open mic and I signed up for it and read there. I clicked with him rather well. He encouraged me to reapply to Goddard. A few years later, not long after graduation, I was guest reader at that same open mic.

      After graduation, I went to another adult ed course. I can’t say it worked out particularly well. I didn’t click with the younger students but I could relate well to the older generation. I think the younger ones found me weird. I was skinny, too, so maybe my appearance freaked them out. I’m beginning to realize that sometimes, if you are uncommonly thin, it does look scary, especially an older anorexic, it’s definitely spooky-looking. Not that I was at all aware of that. Also, they had kind of a snooty attitude about the MFA, that they were somehow above it. Since they were working and earning paychecks, and I wasn’t, I felt like white trash. I felt like everything I said or did was regarded as stupid. Automatically inferior no matter what. I felt rotten afterward. I hope to have a much better experience in January. I hope there is a huge variety of ages and backgrounds. That will help.


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