As a creative writing concentration, I took many workshop classes in college. I've had stories ripped apart by students and professors alike. One student wrote in his comments to me that he hated my characters, my setting, my plot, my dialogue, and the tone of my story. Which boils down to, he hated everything. And sure, I cried a couple times in the privacy of my room (and once in a professor's office). But, eventually, I toughened up.
Or so I thought.
Today, however, when I got back the draft of my first cover story for Arkansas Business, I couldn't stop the tears. Most of it was style issues, and I know that it's not personal, but it's hard to see your writing bleeding right in front of you. Luckily there are bathroom stalls for just this occasion, which I fled to in tears. They've been coming and going throughout the day, but by now I mostly have them under control.
And I think that, against all odds, my story "will make" as they say. I've made the changes and cleaned up the sentences and expanded on some points of interest. I've moved things around and cleared out the typos. I've calmed down.
But, it has been a trying day to say the least. So trying that I had to go home at lunch, watch most of last week's Glee, which I still have saved on DVR, and eat two of the brownies I baked last night as dessert for the delicious dinner Chris made (swordfish steaks, wild rice, and broccoli, yum). So trying that since coming back to work after lunch, I have done nothing but read washingtonpost.com articles and write this blog post. So trying that after work I will likely have to change into sweatpants, watch this week's Glee, and eat two more brownies.
Those interested can look for the article, which may or may not bear and resemblance to my original story, on ArkansasBusiness.com on Monday.
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