I just finished my final for Debate class. I got a B, which is what I seem to get in Communications classes. This offends me to my little Hermione core, but it’s also showing me that I am not as good at communicating as I believed I was. Which in turn, is a good revelation to have, because you can’t learn anything if you think you’re awesome at something already. So, I guess the long answer is that I’m philosophical about my B and willing to accept that I’m not always an A student all the time.
I had a good time in Debate class, which was counter to my expectations. When I told my husband, I was going into a debate class, he laughed at me. Straight up, awkward romantic comedy style, laughed until he nearly fell off the couch. At the time, it stung. I felt like I was being railroaded into the class to begin with, and was frustrated having to take it. To do a one-eighty like this and feel comfortable as opposed to freaking out over the whole thing is good; it means I’ve grown.
This whole college experience has been like that – one experience after another of something that I wasn’t sure I was going to grasp, only to push through and persevere. From classes that didn’t seem like I would use them to classes I’d been dying to take, everything has had its surprises. My Creative Writing Fiction class surprised me by introducing me to literature I genuinely didn’t like. I learned a lot from reading fiction I didn’t like, although it took this class to force me to read it.
My Creative Non-Fiction class also taught me a lot. Despite having no interest in writing my memoir, having an opportunity in class to write sections of my life and hone it with craft helped me in ways that the Fiction course didn’t. It helped me to add emotionality into my stories. I am excited to see how much changed over the course of one quarter, and I can’t wait to start writing my own projects again and show people the difference.
This quarter was the hardest quarter I’ve taken in college. I took two writing intensive classes in one quarter, which is recommended against by everyone, and I quite often wrote two stories a day, switching off fiction from non-fiction and trying to keep everything straight.
The summer, by comparison, looks like it will be a nice break from everything scholastic. My son and I will be spending a lot of time together, so I will be wearing the Mom hat a lot, taking him swimming, hosting his friend, going on Pokewalks, finding little local things to take him to and the like. I would love to say the summer is a great opportunity to write, but I think I’m going to have to fight for every scrap of writing time I can muster. I’ve set myself a challenge of 1000 words a day, just to have some numbers to obsess over.
Oh, and if I work it carefully, I may take a break now and then. But don’t quote me.