Behind the Scenes and a Exclusive Writing Lab on how writing is a lot like being pregnant and the development of the “I won’t write about that exercise.”
Hi and welcome:
By the time this exercise came into my life, I was transformed into a human torpedo launcher.
Stunning and bizarre and freakish.
This could be the reason it was difficult to retain my university teachings. Everything I understood about life changed from the inside out.
Up to that point, I thought I had a grasp on being human, but as a human being grew inside me, I slid into awe and terror. Awe at the first stirring called the quickening, and then with each kick, as well as this one’s inclination to get hiccups, which sent me hopping around rooms (and even the train station a couple of times). Think of being tickled inside your stomach…for an hour. Terror came with the realization this baby had to come out…of me. 😳 Soon!
So, there I was steeped in raging hormones, an unrecognizable body, and equal parts awe and terror while sitting in a university classroom doing the Ten Things assignment.
Overhead, a particle board ceiling embedded with life-sucking fluorescent lighting. Underfoot, industrial linoleum flooring. And me, sidesaddle in one of those wrap-around desks.
(Go directly to the next post on the Blackbird journey now).
Here comes the third and final part…ready?
“Ten Things that Happened” Homework Assignment:
Make a list of ten things that have happened to you. ✔
Circle the three you do not want to write about. Then number them in order of “will-not-write-ness.” ✔
Write a story about number one on your do not want to write list.
It seems like a dirty trick.
That you’ve been pushed into a corner.
And, justifiably, you want to wad that paper into a ball and pelt your teacher with it, then throw your pencil at him/her/them too.
I felt that way at the time.
But let me confess that this teacher had worked his/her/their way onto my bad side on the first day of class when she/he/they took a long, withering look at my growing mid-section, sighed, grimaced, and then shook his/her/their head. In the weeks that followed, I learned via comments and a lecture on depleting planetary resources that this teacher was “zero-population.” I would agree, that our planet was (is) in trouble, but I had lost my entire family to premature deaths so I kind of figured I was okay to have this baby…
Back to the assignment, which honestly was a pretty good one and became teaching in itself. From the most difficult situation comes, often, the most impactful lesson.
A few questions for you:
Did you do the assignment?
If yes, what surprised you?
Will you write a story about the number one thing you do not want to write about?
I do not, not for one second, want you to share your list, or answer these questions in the comment box (unless you find yourself so inclined). There is more power in NOT sharing right now. I’d suggest taking that list and sliding it between the pages of a book on your shelf (the one you like and won’t be giving away) and forgetting it for a while.
Just like the teacher’s judgmental attitude about my being pregnant wasn’t intended to hurt me, these questions and this teaching, are not intended to hurt you. They are there to be asked and to be written, and finally, they are meant to gestate for a while. (See how I slipped that in there?)
Here’s why this exercise matters...
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