Thursday, October 13, 2011

Busy.



I'm employing a keen sense of self when it comes to my MFA work... specifically this means knowing that: 1) I need sleep like a fish needs water and 2) I need plenty of time to revise or I am bound to shame my family with the horse shit writing I turn in.

This necessitated a very specific schedule.

I divided my quarter up into deadlines and then I subdivided the deadlines by week so I'd know what to do with myself.  Basically I'm on a rotation that looks like two weeks of reading and writing my own creative work (drafts) and then a week to revise the creative work and write my critical papers (or as E calls them, "book reports").

So I'm not reading much this week which is weird (and also, a great little break) but I am revising like it's my job.  Last night I moved paragraphs forward and backward and I went through my nonfiction piece like I was weeding a garden.

I'm rethinking metaphors and trying to weave them delicately through each piece.  I'm cutting and cutting and cutting.

I'm tired.  Most of my creative energy is going into those drafts because I'm scared to submit them.  Actually most of my non-creative energy is going into being creative.  I haven't been out for a run since Saturday.  That explains my absence from this space too.

My first packets are due this Saturday.  20 pages of my own fiction.  10 pages of my own nonfiction.  Five critical papers (E says "book reports" makes more sense).

Everything we submit goes into a public folder.  This means everyone in the class reads it.

Our professor's comments also go into the folder.  This means everyone in the class reads those too.

I want to do a good job.  I want to be authentic.  I want to take risks.  I don't want to embarrass myself.

I feel pretty good about what I've done so far, but I know I'll feel better once I hit "submit."

I'm so nervous.

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