That’s all I need. Regardless, I’ve signed up for an online fiction writing class that started today. I’ve been toying with the idea for quite awhile and finally took the plunge. I’m not exactly sure what I plan to get out of it other than an impetus for regularly writing “something”. I’ve discovered that my new WordPress theme encourages me to write longer, more thought out posts which in my world translates to “not writing at all.” I’m hoping the class helps with my writing discipline. If I get undisciplined, I hope it spanks me.
But apart from that, I’m really hoping to understand a little better how the fiction form works, how it’s created and built. I don’t typically have trouble spewing off 500 words about almost anything but my talent for making stories up seems to have ceased about the time I got out of junior high. I’ve tried writing a little fiction here and there but the results have been so poor (and by results I mean “thrown before the high throne of my internal self-critic only to be summarily executed by fingernail pulling”) that I haven’t really tried to improve them much. But I know that I can write fiction, it’s just a matter of discovering how again and that’s really why I’m in the class.
I recently ran across Malcolm Gladwell’s piece on late bloomers and that was the catalyst for actually signing up for the class. I’d like to be a writer, at least in the sense of the word that means “I can sell enough of my work to enough people who actually like it to pay my bills”. With goals that low, I don’t see how I can’t succeed. More seriously, I think I have a modicum of talent for the craft, fleetingly displayed though it may be, and I’d like to foster that talent. I’m hoping that with a little instruction, maybe I can figure out what the hell I’m doing with all these words that keep popping out of my head.
I’ll probably blog semi-randomly about the experience for those of you scoring along at home.