First Classes

Here’s what I brought to my first workshop at Stony Brook:

  • my lunch–a ham on hard roll, honey mustard
  • notebook with short stories to be discussed
  • directions to the building
  • my train tickets

Here’s what I left with:

  • a feeling that my head might explode (in a good way)
  • great respect for my instructor, Roger Rosenblatt
  • gratefulness to be in this class
  • a sense of awe around my craft and how much I don’t know
  • a new inspiration to get down to hard work

What a Kick

Hard to believe, but I have a student ID again.  It didn’t really hit me until I held my new shiny card in my hand and looked at that awful picture — “I’m a student again.”  I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the thought.  The 20-somethings waiting in line all turned to look at the crazy lady old enough to be their mother.

The snow got in my way of going to the official orientation and getting my ID, so yesterday I drafted my son Justin to come with me on the four hour excursion.  We managed to travel on the only day I’ve seen the sun shine around here for weeks, so the drive and the ferry ride were actually very pleasant and even fun. After we left the University campus, Justin insisted that we celebrate by going to a local pub and having a beer.  Two unique things happened there: 1) he wasn’t carded (he looks very young for 22) and 2) he bought the beer. A very special day indeed.

And special for me in other ways.  Going back for my MFA has been on my mind for a few years, and choosing to do it now feels like I’m thumbing my nose at time, deciding that I do have more time to hone my craft, to be more, to reach for more.  It will be a part-time endeavor that will take me longer than most, while I also keep up my marketing work, but the time is going to go anyway–why not work toward something that I value.

I went online last week and ordered books I’ll need.  Classes start next week. Stay tuned.