First of all, I dropped into a Barnes and Noble today to find a nice new journal book with which to follow the directions in the class I’m taking.  To jot stuff down all the time, blah blah blah.  This is already way too rigid for me.  But I’m trying to follow the rules if for no other reason than I might actually learn something.

What I discovered at Barnes and Noble is that it is a good place to visit when I start to think I’m a good writer with a hefty advance in my future or it becomes too much like work.  Just as in Quo Vadis when the emperor’s servant whispers “remember, thou art only a man” as the emperor is parading through the streets, the stacks of books at Barnes and Noble seem to whisper “Remember, thou art only a drop in the bucket of writers who make up the literate world.  So write for enjoyment, write for enjoyment, write for enjoyment.”  I have decided it is a good place to go if I get too stressed.  It makes the idea of actually being known for something I’ve written seem downright absurd.

Writing class is a riot.  We started out with imagery, so I wrote the thing on the bumper sticker.  We are supposed to comment on each other’s works and I already have a few people I hate in my class.  Not because they commented on my work, but because of the way they did it.  I am probably going to be hated because I refuse to take it too seriously.  I also take with a grain of salt (damn, a cliche, gotta avoid those) the suggestions of other people who, like me, are in a class to learn how to write.  Don’t get me wrong.  Some suggestions were right on and wonderful and validated my own criticisms of my work.  It was clear others wanted me to write it their way!  Those I will certainly ignore.  Write your own damn book.

The other danger is that I will stop doing what I am doing here – writing in this blog every day.  My son Jeff told me he hadn’t visited recently because I had stopped writing every day.  OK.  I’m back.  I promise to write every day if it kills me, and it will just be this nonsense that you all love so much.  If nothing else this class has already taught me that I don’t think I want to write the Great American Novel.  Too much work.  This is much more fun.   I think my future lies in telling stories about real life, my family life, my PT life, my life life. Nevertheless, I will continue with this writing program for a number of reasons.  I just think I should keep this blog down and dirty and honest and unstructured.  Keepin’ it real.  I will certainly throw my writing assignments in here now and again, but this is, after all, Favorite Philosopher’s blog and I don’t need no stinkin’ writing class to teach me how to do that…