u s e y o u r h a n d s

So I randomly decided to take a class at the University of Chicago extension. Random is right, because I just went to their web site, and registered for a class the day it started.

It’s called Short Short Fiction, and looks at writing 1200 words and under. Which is what I’ve been doing on this here webbity for a few years now. Plus at GB. But I was petrified. Because although I’ve made my living as a writer for, like, eight years now, I have never taken a single writing class. Not a one. Which surprises people and astounds me. Not because I’m ridiculously talented and think I never have needed one. But because there was such a gap in my education. This is why you should never rush your kids through school.

Anyway. Here I am. I’m petrified because I’ve never had to share my work. I mean, I’ll put postings out on the Internets, but as far as face-to-face criticism, I’ve never had to do that. Before I sent my first story out to the class at large, I had to completely black out the faces of everyone I’d seen at class the week before. Pretend they didn’t exist. And I reassured myself that if I didn’t like it, I didn’t have to go back.

My class was last night. So scared. We went through one person’s story, then another. And then time was up. Mine has to wait until next week. But at least I didn’t throw up.