. Spinning .

Just got home a bit ago and in reflection, would say that the conference was well worth the money.  There was no schmoozing of agents and publishers on my part, though they were mobbed by those who either did or felt that they did have a book ready for the world to see.  To me, two agents, two editors–one from Simon & Schuster and one from the Yale Review versus 125 hot to trot writers were worse odds than simply going home and sending out query letters.

Did get some excellent retraining in thinking like a writer, although I do feel that my work is nowhere near the caliber or level of perfection I need it to be.  What a couple friends like Sally and Sarah (from Chicago) and Josip Novakovich did offer in their critiques were extremely useful to my writing and revising, as well as the class workshopping and concentration on each element with reinforcement by example.  We read Chekov among others, and an in-depth discussion of both the famous writers and the experience of the published writers who were the instructors held considerable weight in understanding. 

I made people laugh with my reading (thanks, Sally, for making me get up to the mic!) and enjoyed it tremendously.  I’ve come back with ideas for my own stories, a start of a new one, and a real feel for what’s been missing from much of my narratives–tension and conflict.  Maybe even some real blood and guts.  Prof. Novakovich only had suggestions on the stories and said nothing negative about my work, and in speaking with others he’s consulted on, this is a good sign.  Sally hit me hard on my invalid fragments and oh my–my punctuation and that evil semi-colon I continue to abuse. 

I have some contacts for top notch speakers for the next Tunxis Writers Festival, and some possibilities for taking otto into a new direction.  I have found writers who want to find groups of like-minded folk, and those who would like to submit their work.

I’m exhausted but happy.  Anxious to write. (<–invalid fragment, nyah, nyah, Sally!) 

A very full and exciting day today.  A quick dinner and discussion with a few of us wannabe’s and then off to hear guest speaker Jules Feiffer.  Did manage to get one book signed by one of my instructors, Roxana Robinson and will get the others signed tomorrow–Jennifer Haigh and Josip Novakovich after final classes. 

Did read two of my "Eight Deadly Sins" for the student readings, choosing Greed and Lust, as sort of a fun thing and they were well received.  Most students did go well over the 3-minute allotment, and I regret a night’s running between the computer and the microwave to cut down a story that would have taken only four at the most anyway.  My choices were unserious stuff and unfortunately never polished, but nevertheless I’m just as glad because I had a fun time reading them.

Need to sleep.  Early day tomorrow, but the conference ends around three.

Good day today, went to all three classes, and had a writers menage a tois for feedback on each other’s work.   Wrote just a bit in exercises in class, and am getting better at thinking on my feet. 

Just listened to just publishing editors and agents and the news has not changed, it’s still a rough world out there, but did get some info on a small publishing house and a line on a new lit journal that is being published by a small non-profit writers group.  I’ll do more on this later.

In the meantime, I’m getting nervous about reading for three minutes tonight and might either cross my name off the list when Sally isn’t looking, or just throw up and go onstage afterwards.

One of the best exercises that I’ve done and that has come in handy right now was in the last creative writing course where we wrote 600 words and cut it back to 300.  I just tried to cut a 900 word Reflections story down to about 450, and have given up at 545.  I’ll read something else in the 3-minute limit.

Tomorrow is the last day, some classes, and then home all aglow with inspiration.

I’m not ready yet to do a review of the Wesleyan conference, but I am learning some things and have been forced to write a bit via assignments–something I’ve never been good at on a "start NOW!" basis in a classroom setting.  But we’ve had overnights to prepare, and with a bit of luck, the opening line will come before I’ve turned the key in the ignition to head back in.  This morning, I’d all but given up–why write crap at all, which is what I end up with if I try to write about something I’m told to write about–when it hit, and I unpacked the laptop to get it down and print it  out as fast as the words came to me.

The consultation was all right, it gave me some ideas on the three stories I submitted, but nothing concrete on my style.  I had a hard time convincing, and I know he still doesn’t believe me that the stories were non-fiction–them, he believed, even down to a couple of non-existent kids.  Can’t imagine what he thinks of my friend Few, the garbage heap. 

But tomorrow is another day and a very full one.  I’m still going to all three classes, and the rest of the day will be listening to publishers, agents, etc., and Sally (who is not really a girly-girl, honest) has coerced me into following her in student readings.  I’m not sure what I’ll read yet, so I need to sort through my stuff and do some picking and editing.  Maybe, "Reflections in Imagery" which has had the best response so far, and may come within the three-minute max with the least cutting.

It’s been a very busy and contemplative week.  I probably won’t appreciate it all until I’m back in my frame shop and worrying over my next Nutrition exam this weekend.

Reporting live from the Wesleyan campus, that I’m more together with the flow of things today.  Had an excellent class with published author and faculty member Roxana Robinson, and am headed shortly into Josip Novakavich’s class for more on fiction technique.  In Prof. Robinson’s, we discussed an assigned short story to read and I learned much more to look for in creating sympathetic characters via setting and action.  We also workshopped student pieces on getting information into dialogue–strict dialogue, and what was said revealed much more than the topic of conversation.  We looked for enough information given, gender, conflict, and voice in particular, and via several examples, were directed in establishing these tidbits within a normal, credible diaglogue.

Good stuff. 

So it was a delayed response, I suppose, but I’m writing again and will take the laptop with me while the mood persists.

There are some heavy-duty writers teaching these courses, and while I was not awed by the readings last night, just going through the first couple pages of the published books by these people has proven to me that maybe the not-so-obvious skill of writing as listened to, is there in full force in the text.

Psyched again, I’m off.

Just realized how down I sounded in the last post.  I think–and I’ve heard others say the same about the classes–that it just hasn’t really gotten into full swing yet.  First day of class is just that, regardless sometimes of the fact that there are only five classes on each topic jammed into one week.  We don’t feel we’ve learned anything.  One class used a full forty-five minutes of an hour and a half of the class to introduce each student and answer the question "why do we read?"  The other two classes used that amount of time to bring up the instructor’s experiences in writing–which of course are useful, but nothing exciting or new has been presented yet.  Most likely, the rest of the week will be more enlightening and inspiring as the class, although large with about 60 students in each, moves together in a quicker pace.  One of the instructors was almost rude in cutting off a student’s discourse, but then again, as Sally pointed out, it is in the best interest of the class to discourage this sometimes, as there are here, as everywhere, students that just like to hear themselves talk. 

Have to finish my assignments for tomorrow–read a short story, and write a short piece on a really bad character yet make him a sympathetic one, and write a page revealing character via dialogue only.  My recent foray into Dorothy Parker’s mind should help me with this last one.

Well, several delicious meals into the conference (I judge all adventures by the food), I’m not sure how I’m feeling here.  I sort of feel out of my element, odd, because the purpose is to bring writers together.

But aside from the ones who want to tell you what they’re doing and get your opinion, or merely just to brag, there are some good people.  Sunday was mainly a meet and greet, and I had more fun just getting to know a bit more about my friend Sally.  We found each other of like mind on several issues, like avoiding the loudmouth who clamped onto us with the biggest cheeriest smile that made you almost feel sorry for her.

Strange, but I want to get away from everyone to go find a quiet corner and write.  I don’t want to mingle and discuss.  The Wesleyan campus is absolutely beautiful, and I could really get into the kick off your shoes and lay on the lawn bit.  I sit around looking thoughful, have been reading, but sadly, feel lost in the writing end of it without my laptop.  Maybe tomorrow, when we’re planning a shorter day of it, I may bring it with me.

I’ve taken three classes today, but don’t know if I’ll continue all three throughout the week.  There’s assignments of both reading and writing in each, and in the meantime, I’m trying to keep up with my Nutrition course as well (Did manage to get 6 points added out of the 8 I argued.  Should have argued 12 and gotten 10 maybe.).

Maybe it’s just the intensive full three classes in a row that made me antsy, and I think what I’ll do tomorrow is maybe sit in on one of the others, such as poetry instead of all fiction classes. 

We stayed for the readings tonight, and one of the readers read so beautifully that it wouldn’t really matter what she wrote, you just wanted to listen to her speak. 

Somehow, I’m not really meshing with this yet.  There isn’t the high that I expected.  I think it may be because I haven’t really been writing, even here at Spinning for this time dedicated to writing.  Maybe bringing along the laptop is the answer.  At least, at five pounds it should anchor me in a quiet spot to sit and write.  Although the food I’ve eaten here is probably as good a weight as any.

Well, in a couple hours we’ll be off to the Writers Conference, and will be going daily through Friday. 

I decided to dress artsy-fartsy toned down, which means baggies but a plaid instead of a flowing floral shirt.  Normally, I am a jeans person and will likely go back to that for the rest of the week, but dinners are included and there are evening goings-on. 

Whatever happened to "to thine own self be true?"  I usually don’t give a r..’s a.. what I wear and in fact, take great delight in shocking others if possible.  But then again, I don’t want to feel like a dweeb either.

I will likely be reporting on the conference here either late at night or early mornings.  It should be exciting and fun, and the only thing I’ll miss is my laptop.

(Addendum:  Shoot.  Oh yeah, and my husband.)