I’m here to write other things besides the blog, but figured
I would stop by and say hello before moving onto my opus. My current magnum opus, I should call it.
Because there’s always that ONE THING I’M WORKING ON THAT’S GOING TO BE SO. MIND-BLOWINGLY. AWESOME. until everything goes to hell and I put it in a drawer and call it
hideous and never look at it again. My current magnum opus is still in my good graces
– hanging on by a thread, but so far still dangling.
I’ve recently become part of a “writers’ salon” which sounds
to me very Bohemian and conjures images of me wearing some kind of oblong velvet
hat and smoking a cigarette on a long stick and generally being extremely
sophisticated and witty while lounging amongst jewel-toned pillows. In reality, it’s a small group of sensibly dressed writers – seven of
us, including our fearless leader, Beth -- who meet twice a month in the group
room of the Greek restaurant down the street where you order at the counter and
fill your own glass with water and aren't allowed to smoke inside.
It’s a very good restaurant. I don’t mean to be all like oh god, this restaurant, you don’t know - I’m
just attempting to convey it’s non-Bohemianness. The food is delicious. The
people who work there are my new best friends, they’re so nice. The only thing Bohemian about the whole thing is that we get to drink wine while discussing
writing if we want to. Which I will this
coming Monday since I’ve turned in my latest opus to be critiqued. It’s gone
through a critique once already, during the class I took last semester, but I
don’t think it’s as finished as those reviews suggested, so I’m
interested to see what a smaller, more intimate group of Very Serious Writers
thinks about it. I’ve noticed that, generally speaking, I tend to get torn
apart more in more intimate settings. Very Serious Writers tend to be a scary
and passionate and opinionated bunch. They don’t like their time wasted.
(“Jesus God, I could be reading GOOD writing.”)
Why I continue to pay for emotional trauma semester after semester, I couldn't tell you.
Why I continue to pay for emotional trauma semester after semester, I couldn't tell you.
I’m exaggerating a little, of course. While generally opinionated and non-punch-holding, the salon people are all great writers with sparkling personalities, and I’m excited to
have been included in the group, and when they all become famous I fully
plan to do some name-dropping to get whatever is my current magnum opus published, too.
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