Feels a little like an English class for now. Only in French. We even read A Good Man is Hard to Find or Les braves gens ne courent pas les rues. But this is essential reading for anyone who has ever considered writing a short story and I adore Flannery O’ Connor so I don’t mind. There were about 19 people. Kind of too many. One of the habituées let me know that the numbers would drop dramatically in the next two classes.
Kinda figured. This is the first day. Now add/drops begin.
Lamar is a really open and relaxed guy. Judging from his writing voice, I kind of figured that, too. He certainly doesn’t come off as a hard-ass on the page. But you never know. We sat in a square of tables, which was nice. You can pretty much see everybody. The best part for me today was hearing the introductions. It is so interesting to meet new people, hear why they are there, what they hope for and to get their book recommendations. This is a really interesting group. Different ethnicities, ages, jobs. Fascinating.
The first exercise is to build inevitability in a story. Imbue* the writing with the hand of fate. So the first exercise is only like one of the hardest things to do well in fiction. A bar so high I can drive a semi under it. Well, that’s how it feels right now. I have two weeks.
Eep.
And I feel like Ginger Rogers because at least everyone else there, other than Lamar, has French as a maternal language. I did tell Lamar that writing in French was going to be hard for me. He offered to read my work in English. My husband has said that he will help me with the French if not just outright translate my work for me.
Au travail!
* I dislike this word. Why did I write it?
