My writing lately has been for shit. I haven’t been able to concentrate and I’ve been exceptionally tired. Sure, that’s real. But it’s become an excuse.
So yesterday, I took a writing class on Zoom for the first time. I didn’t know what to expect and truthfully didn’t have high hopes, but it turned out to be really wonderful. The teacher – based in Spain – led a series of writing prompts and a good discussion of various aspects of story structure. I found myself entranced with the accents of people from various parts of Europe and Africa; I found myself curious about the places where they sat, noticing plants and books.
I was surprised to see how the class reminded me of the world. How it gave me a glimpse of the places I miss being in, the spaces of travel and discovery, the smiles of strangers who live differently than I do but are still so similar to me.
There is a lot that I can’t do right now; at the top of that list is travel. But I can still grow. I can still learn. I can still just go for a drive, take my notebook and a pen, find somewhere to pull off and watch the world. I can still find my words, in a class or on my own, and write.
Here’s hoping I can remember that the next time I start to question myself (which – let’s be honest – will be any minute now). Ah, life.