Anchor ads are not supported on this page.

4S Ranch Allied Gardens Alpine Baja Balboa Park Bankers Hill Barrio Logan Bay Ho Bay Park Black Mountain Ranch Blossom Valley Bonita Bonsall Borrego Springs Boulevard Campo Cardiff-by-the-Sea Carlsbad Carmel Mountain Carmel Valley Chollas View Chula Vista City College City Heights Clairemont College Area Coronado CSU San Marcos Cuyamaca College Del Cerro Del Mar Descanso Downtown San Diego Eastlake East Village El Cajon Emerald Hills Encanto Encinitas Escondido Fallbrook Fletcher Hills Golden Hill Grant Hill Grantville Grossmont College Guatay Harbor Island Hillcrest Imperial Beach Imperial Valley Jacumba Jamacha-Lomita Jamul Julian Kearny Mesa Kensington La Jolla Lakeside La Mesa Lemon Grove Leucadia Liberty Station Lincoln Acres Lincoln Park Linda Vista Little Italy Logan Heights Mesa College Midway District MiraCosta College Miramar Miramar College Mira Mesa Mission Beach Mission Hills Mission Valley Mountain View Mount Hope Mount Laguna National City Nestor Normal Heights North Park Oak Park Ocean Beach Oceanside Old Town Otay Mesa Pacific Beach Pala Palomar College Palomar Mountain Paradise Hills Pauma Valley Pine Valley Point Loma Point Loma Nazarene Potrero Poway Rainbow Ramona Rancho Bernardo Rancho Penasquitos Rancho San Diego Rancho Santa Fe Rolando San Carlos San Marcos San Onofre Santa Ysabel Santee San Ysidro Scripps Ranch SDSU Serra Mesa Shelltown Shelter Island Sherman Heights Skyline Solana Beach Sorrento Valley Southcrest South Park Southwestern College Spring Valley Stockton Talmadge Temecula Tierrasanta Tijuana UCSD University City University Heights USD Valencia Park Valley Center Vista Warner Springs

Creative Writing Class – First Day


I wake up in the morning, and feel the familiar sensation. Dread. And I am nervous. How can I get out of this? Why did I sign up for this class? Having taken many classes over the years and being unable to finish them has been my albatross for years. Like most people, I share a fear of public speaking. Mine is certifiable.

Leaving the safety of the peninsula, I get in my car and drive. The magnificence that is San Diego flies by, barely noticed. The beaches, the palm trees, the debatable Mormon Church once mistaken as Disneyland by my young niece, they’re all a blur. I'm too in my head and my head demands that I vacate immediately. There simply isn't enough room for me there.

Here we are. The UCSD campus is a beautiful place. Surrounded by Torrey Pines, perched above La Jolla, it is utopia, even to the most privileged. I find the Extension section of the campus. So this is where they put us. The FEMA trailers.

I locate the classroom. There are two people waiting, friendly faces. Relaxing a bit, I meet Kay. She is talkative and intelligent, speaks of things over my head. I am a fraud. We bond, she is my safety person, and I know we will sit together.

Our instructor, Mr. Larson, has a knack for putting a class at ease. By avoiding the awkward introduce yourself and tell the class a bit about your self portion, I am grateful beyond words, and all but weep with relief. He hands out our syllabus. Comprehending the words participation, read and critique, discussions, reading aloud and I hope you will feel comfortable, I want to weep again.

Mr. Larson wants to know what we like to write and why. At first, I am frozen. The voice in my head pleads “please don’t call on me”. A few people venture a response, then silence. Again, the voice – “say something, you idiot. Participation is part of your grade. This is why you are here!!” Suddenly, heart pounding, I find my voice and proffer humorous essays. Others chime in. What just happened?

He gives us an assignment. “What keeps you from writing?” he asks. Then sage advice: “The pen is faster than the mind. Just write what comes to you”. I list my reasons and am done in 30 seconds. Others write flowing paragraphs, words coming to them, writing fast and furious, knowing they only have a few minutes to finish. I look at their work, then at mine. Five words vs. hundreds. I am scared, too aware of my inability. Even my pen is stupid.

What keeps me from writing is fear. Not fear of writing. Fear of sharing with strangers, of being critiqued by strangers. Critiqued becomes critical, then criticized. Standing up in front of them, my worst nightmare will come true. Is returning to class next week even an option?

Mr. Larson wants us to discuss our findings. With the adept skill of the experienced hostess, he pairs us off, away from our safety people. Joined with Kerry, we share our discoveries, then chat a bit about the narrative genre, the need to embellish, the poster child for over embellishment, Mr. James Frey. The room is lively, and we are having fun.

The class listens to Mr. Larson read Salvation by Langston Hughes, and I think Mr. Larson should read for NPR. Discussion ensues about the meaning of Salvation and I provide the possibility that young Mr. Hughes may have experienced alienation from his community. It is acknowledged and not discounted. I am elated.

We receive our homework assignment. Write about an event that is important to you and why. Things come to me slowly, such as my wedding day or leaving my job of 20 years. As Mr. Larson provides clues to assist us, I realize that important events are not just enormous things like graduations and weddings, but little things that shape us and help us grow. I can’t stop writing. There are so many.

A shift has occurred. I am enjoying myself. This isn’t about judging and criticizing; it is about bonding and sharing. Nobody is going to be mean to you, or think you are stupid. Although I am still nervous and self-conscience, I realize we share a commonality, and that is to learn to be better writers.

I go home and think for awhile. Because of my love of reading, I want to write. Being afraid of what others think has held me back from doing many things. This is the first class I have ever attended where the subject matter held my attention from the get go, because it is something that interests me. What a novel concept.

I know exactly what I will write about, and I know I will be back next week.

Here's something you might be interested in.
Submit a free classified
or view all

Previous article

Angry Pete’s goes from pop-up to drive-thru

Detroit Pizza sidles into the husk of a shuttered Taco Bell
Next Article

Flowering pear trees in Kensington not that nice

Empty dirt plots in front of Ken Cinema

I wake up in the morning, and feel the familiar sensation. Dread. And I am nervous. How can I get out of this? Why did I sign up for this class? Having taken many classes over the years and being unable to finish them has been my albatross for years. Like most people, I share a fear of public speaking. Mine is certifiable.

Leaving the safety of the peninsula, I get in my car and drive. The magnificence that is San Diego flies by, barely noticed. The beaches, the palm trees, the debatable Mormon Church once mistaken as Disneyland by my young niece, they’re all a blur. I'm too in my head and my head demands that I vacate immediately. There simply isn't enough room for me there.

Here we are. The UCSD campus is a beautiful place. Surrounded by Torrey Pines, perched above La Jolla, it is utopia, even to the most privileged. I find the Extension section of the campus. So this is where they put us. The FEMA trailers.

I locate the classroom. There are two people waiting, friendly faces. Relaxing a bit, I meet Kay. She is talkative and intelligent, speaks of things over my head. I am a fraud. We bond, she is my safety person, and I know we will sit together.

Our instructor, Mr. Larson, has a knack for putting a class at ease. By avoiding the awkward introduce yourself and tell the class a bit about your self portion, I am grateful beyond words, and all but weep with relief. He hands out our syllabus. Comprehending the words participation, read and critique, discussions, reading aloud and I hope you will feel comfortable, I want to weep again.

Mr. Larson wants to know what we like to write and why. At first, I am frozen. The voice in my head pleads “please don’t call on me”. A few people venture a response, then silence. Again, the voice – “say something, you idiot. Participation is part of your grade. This is why you are here!!” Suddenly, heart pounding, I find my voice and proffer humorous essays. Others chime in. What just happened?

He gives us an assignment. “What keeps you from writing?” he asks. Then sage advice: “The pen is faster than the mind. Just write what comes to you”. I list my reasons and am done in 30 seconds. Others write flowing paragraphs, words coming to them, writing fast and furious, knowing they only have a few minutes to finish. I look at their work, then at mine. Five words vs. hundreds. I am scared, too aware of my inability. Even my pen is stupid.

What keeps me from writing is fear. Not fear of writing. Fear of sharing with strangers, of being critiqued by strangers. Critiqued becomes critical, then criticized. Standing up in front of them, my worst nightmare will come true. Is returning to class next week even an option?

Mr. Larson wants us to discuss our findings. With the adept skill of the experienced hostess, he pairs us off, away from our safety people. Joined with Kerry, we share our discoveries, then chat a bit about the narrative genre, the need to embellish, the poster child for over embellishment, Mr. James Frey. The room is lively, and we are having fun.

The class listens to Mr. Larson read Salvation by Langston Hughes, and I think Mr. Larson should read for NPR. Discussion ensues about the meaning of Salvation and I provide the possibility that young Mr. Hughes may have experienced alienation from his community. It is acknowledged and not discounted. I am elated.

We receive our homework assignment. Write about an event that is important to you and why. Things come to me slowly, such as my wedding day or leaving my job of 20 years. As Mr. Larson provides clues to assist us, I realize that important events are not just enormous things like graduations and weddings, but little things that shape us and help us grow. I can’t stop writing. There are so many.

A shift has occurred. I am enjoying myself. This isn’t about judging and criticizing; it is about bonding and sharing. Nobody is going to be mean to you, or think you are stupid. Although I am still nervous and self-conscience, I realize we share a commonality, and that is to learn to be better writers.

I go home and think for awhile. Because of my love of reading, I want to write. Being afraid of what others think has held me back from doing many things. This is the first class I have ever attended where the subject matter held my attention from the get go, because it is something that interests me. What a novel concept.

I know exactly what I will write about, and I know I will be back next week.

Sponsored
Here's something you might be interested in.
Submit a free classified
or view all
Ask a Hipster — Advice you didn't know you needed Big Screen — Movie commentary Blurt — Music's inside track Booze News — San Diego spirits Classical Music — Immortal beauty Classifieds — Free and easy Cover Stories — Front-page features Drinks All Around — Bartenders' drink recipes Excerpts — Literary and spiritual excerpts Feast! — Food & drink reviews Feature Stories — Local news & stories Fishing Report — What’s getting hooked from ship and shore From the Archives — Spotlight on the past Golden Dreams — Talk of the town The Gonzo Report — Making the musical scene, or at least reporting from it Letters — Our inbox Movies@Home — Local movie buffs share favorites Movie Reviews — Our critics' picks and pans Musician Interviews — Up close with local artists Neighborhood News from Stringers — Hyperlocal news News Ticker — News & politics Obermeyer — San Diego politics illustrated Outdoors — Weekly changes in flora and fauna Overheard in San Diego — Eavesdropping illustrated Poetry — The old and the new Reader Travel — Travel section built by travelers Reading — The hunt for intellectuals Roam-O-Rama — SoCal's best hiking/biking trails San Diego Beer — Inside San Diego suds SD on the QT — Almost factual news Sheep and Goats — Places of worship Special Issues — The best of Street Style — San Diego streets have style Surf Diego — Real stories from those braving the waves Theater — On stage in San Diego this week Tin Fork — Silver spoon alternative Under the Radar — Matt Potter's undercover work Unforgettable — Long-ago San Diego Unreal Estate — San Diego's priciest pads Your Week — Daily event picks
4S Ranch Allied Gardens Alpine Baja Balboa Park Bankers Hill Barrio Logan Bay Ho Bay Park Black Mountain Ranch Blossom Valley Bonita Bonsall Borrego Springs Boulevard Campo Cardiff-by-the-Sea Carlsbad Carmel Mountain Carmel Valley Chollas View Chula Vista City College City Heights Clairemont College Area Coronado CSU San Marcos Cuyamaca College Del Cerro Del Mar Descanso Downtown San Diego Eastlake East Village El Cajon Emerald Hills Encanto Encinitas Escondido Fallbrook Fletcher Hills Golden Hill Grant Hill Grantville Grossmont College Guatay Harbor Island Hillcrest Imperial Beach Imperial Valley Jacumba Jamacha-Lomita Jamul Julian Kearny Mesa Kensington La Jolla Lakeside La Mesa Lemon Grove Leucadia Liberty Station Lincoln Acres Lincoln Park Linda Vista Little Italy Logan Heights Mesa College Midway District MiraCosta College Miramar Miramar College Mira Mesa Mission Beach Mission Hills Mission Valley Mountain View Mount Hope Mount Laguna National City Nestor Normal Heights North Park Oak Park Ocean Beach Oceanside Old Town Otay Mesa Pacific Beach Pala Palomar College Palomar Mountain Paradise Hills Pauma Valley Pine Valley Point Loma Point Loma Nazarene Potrero Poway Rainbow Ramona Rancho Bernardo Rancho Penasquitos Rancho San Diego Rancho Santa Fe Rolando San Carlos San Marcos San Onofre Santa Ysabel Santee San Ysidro Scripps Ranch SDSU Serra Mesa Shelltown Shelter Island Sherman Heights Skyline Solana Beach Sorrento Valley Southcrest South Park Southwestern College Spring Valley Stockton Talmadge Temecula Tierrasanta Tijuana UCSD University City University Heights USD Valencia Park Valley Center Vista Warner Springs
Close

Anchor ads are not supported on this page.