Conversations
I'm three and a half months pregnant, and I went on a shopping spree today, buying clothes I had no business buying. Well, I can wear them during most of my pregnancy because they're loose-fitting, but I really didn't need to buy clothes. I also bought a nice black leather tote. Then, a wave of nausea swept over me, so I darted across the street to Cafe Brasil for a quick snack and drink. I left my colleague friend in the dressing room. "Catherine, I'm going to die if I don't eat. I'm going across the street. Can't wait for you. Meet me there." Ahhh, the joys of pregnancy. So selfish. No consideration whatsoever for anyone else when it comes to eating.
I sat down by myself at a table by a window. I never can relax. I have to fidget. Look at my cell phone. Look at the time. Look around for my food to come. An attractive dark-headed girl and feminine guy sat down in front of me and talked about writing which immediately caught my interest. They may have been creative writing students because I overheard them talking about different classes. He said, "Description is overrated. I had a professor who once said, 'What is description? It's the part of the writing you skip.' I think it can be overdone. Whatever happened to talking about ideas?" It made me think of Josh, the writing student I taught with one summer, asking our students, "How do you get your ideas?" He shared a poem called "How I Get My Ideas" with us, and it made us think about the many different possibilities for stories.
I wanted to sit there for hours and listen to their conversation about writing. I wanted to join in. Rarely do I get the chance to talk about writing with someone because most people I know do not write or are not interested in writing.
Three years ago I took a fiction short story writing class through Inprint in Houston. I loved it. After the first couple of classes, I ran into one of my classmates at Cafe Artiste. He was a psychologist. He asked me, "Why do people write?" I thought about it and said, "To express themselves." He said, "But why write fiction?" I thought again. "Maybe it's an escape?" He didn't seem satisfied with my answer. He never came to class again.
I sat down by myself at a table by a window. I never can relax. I have to fidget. Look at my cell phone. Look at the time. Look around for my food to come. An attractive dark-headed girl and feminine guy sat down in front of me and talked about writing which immediately caught my interest. They may have been creative writing students because I overheard them talking about different classes. He said, "Description is overrated. I had a professor who once said, 'What is description? It's the part of the writing you skip.' I think it can be overdone. Whatever happened to talking about ideas?" It made me think of Josh, the writing student I taught with one summer, asking our students, "How do you get your ideas?" He shared a poem called "How I Get My Ideas" with us, and it made us think about the many different possibilities for stories.
I wanted to sit there for hours and listen to their conversation about writing. I wanted to join in. Rarely do I get the chance to talk about writing with someone because most people I know do not write or are not interested in writing.
Three years ago I took a fiction short story writing class through Inprint in Houston. I loved it. After the first couple of classes, I ran into one of my classmates at Cafe Artiste. He was a psychologist. He asked me, "Why do people write?" I thought about it and said, "To express themselves." He said, "But why write fiction?" I thought again. "Maybe it's an escape?" He didn't seem satisfied with my answer. He never came to class again.
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