Writer’s Craft Class

It happened. 

On Friday AND yesterday. 

I was back in high school.

The same crowded and rowdy hallways, the same smell of feet, French fries, too strong boys’ cologne, chalk and bad choices.

The same small desks in the classrooms, the shrieks of the girls, the laughter of the boys.  Not much has changed. High school is high school. The best and yet worst years of your life.

And I? Went willingly back into the breach.

But this time, I wasn’t cutting classes to go and smoke behind the portables. I wasn’t finding ways to charm the vice principal. I wasn’t ogling for a coveted role in the yearly drama production.

This time I was sitting in front of a class speaking to the students. 

And you know what?

I LOVED IT!

On Friday I was in town at our local high school. The very same one my two oldest kids go to.

I spent an hour with a class full of teenagers who listened to me talk about what being a writer means to me, how I got my start in writing newspaper articles and how that eventually evolved into writing novels.

They asked me some of the most amazing questions. They even asked me which writers I am inspired by, something I haven’t been asked in, well, I don’t know how long.

I was so happy that as every question was answered, it seemed to spawn two more questions and we literally talked for the entire period. 

Then yesterday I made the drive to London to speak to another writer’s craft class in another school. The same teacher who first invited me out to do something like this last year was having me back.

Again, wonderful students, some more inquisitive than others and again an entire hour filled with talking on the subject that I am most passionate about. Writing.

I talked about the importance of revision, of editing, of research and most importantly, to read as much as they could get their hands on. I was lit up by one of the girls in the class who was so enthusiastic about even being able to have the chat in the first place. I got to listen to two students present two pages each of their own creative work.

In a season when so much of the publishing and writing world has held more disappointments than hopeful motivation for me personally, this was the salve I really needed, but didn’t dare to dream of.

I am, as ever, in awe of the talent, the resources and the unbridled joy that surrounds the students when I get the odd chance to go and speak with them. It makes me wish that I could do it more often.

Here’s to the creators of tomorrow, the blissful sneak peak backwards at what my teenage self might have been like, and the rise of a spring that promises new beginnings, not just in nature, but in all areas of life, including a new hope for my (and your) dreams.

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It’s a book thing

Last year around this time I was still out and about in the world promoting my first book, Autumn Violets.

It was so much fun, going around to book stores and events to talk about a book…my book.  Like a woman with a brand new baby I flaunted that shit in the face of anyone who would look. I cooed over it, I bragged about it and I loved every minute of it.

This year, as most of you know, I was all set to release my second book when the publisher I was working with had to make the tough decision to close its doors. So, no new baby to show off and brag about.  At least, not for now.

However, on friday, I went to our local high school to talk to the senior writer’s craft class, and oh my god did I ever have a great time.

Not only did I get to talk to a group of kids about my little book, but I got to talk to a group of kids about writing.  And reading.

It was like, everything that had me frustrated about the whole process in the first place just melted away. We talked about all of the hard things associated with this industry of course, but we also talked about all of the wonderful parts as well. The kids asked me about  my literary influences and I started to remember that it was and is a passion for books in general that made me a writer in the first place.

Last night, after a very long week and a very long day, I actually read for pleasure for the first time in over a month.  Over a month, people!!

I stayed up until three am just to finish the book.

On Tuesday I head to another high school to speak to another class and I’m so excited about it I feel like a kid at christmas. It seems that all of my creative happiness is just surging back into my fingers and I am having so many ideas for future projects, I actually made a list yesterday of some other book ideas that I might want to work on in the future.

It’s the year of ‘like’, and I am finally, after some weeks of tough news, ‘liking’ that I am a writer again. I don’t feel frustrated by it today, I feel inspired.

What a refreshing feeling.

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