playing school

playing school

This is the first story I sent to my new writing group. We are calling it the Bearded Dog, or maybe Dogbeard. The Dogbeards?

The guy who wrote these comments on my story did not, in fact, write “GREAT JOB” and “A+”. That is Photoshop. I wanted to spell out for you how submitting a story to fellow writers, and having those fellow writers comment on it, makes me feel: like a student. Like a good student, in fact. In other words, it makes me feel like a million bucks.

I am aware that the degree of pleasure I get out of playing school makes me a terrible nerd. Not to mention the fact that I want to give our group a name RIGHT AWAY instead of letting whatever we’re going to call it evolve and emerge naturally, like a cooler person would do, or letting it never have a name, like–well that’s the kind of cool I can’t even fathom.

But hey, being a new fake student in this new fake classroom is getting me to put some new stuff on paper. It’ s giving me permission to be a novice (yet again!), to take some risks.

Whatever works, right?

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