So i know I'm suppose to hate my very hot but very boring creative nonfiction teacher (who I call Mr. Douchebag), but after a terrible weekend(slowly recovering, thanks for the reassurances) i was too tired to even hate him the last couple of days...especially since i emailed him about helping me with my short story.
Last week i went to an old professor asking for a recommendation and to read my story for any suggestion. She didn't seem to mind about the recommendation part, but reminded me that she was more of critical essay person than a creative writing woman, so she would be not really helpful in critiquing my work.
She then mentioned that i should probably talk to this professor on campus, whose won a buttload of awards and is really talented. My ears perked up, until she said "His name is Mr. Douchebag"
After cursing that I'd have to go back to most boring human being in the world,i caved and wrote him an email asking if i could talk to him about my short story and the writing process in general.
Less than an hour later, we had set up a meeting time via email(scheduled for today), and the buildup has been tense since then, like some old western where two foes are going to meet for a showdown.
I felt it on Monday, as i walked into class(still depressed and the verge of tears) as Mr. Douchebag kept shooting me a look Like just because i wrote him an email I would suddenly be attentive in his class...big shock on Monday when i laid my head down and spaced out.
So today i marched up to his office, armed with my version of the short story i emailed him, and waited for some shit to break loose(since he is a fan of tearing my stuff up)
Instead, he spent an hour proving why he may not be such a douchebag. I grilled him, like the rent was due, and he came back with really helpful suggestion. He says I'm getting the rhythm of the whole short story thing and that it takes a couple of drafts before i will be happy with it.
He was actually really nice, and gave me some sound advice. We spent an hour thinking of where my story could go, how to end it, and how to keep the reader interested.
Now i don't know what to do,he's still boring ass hell, and i still wish i had taken someones class...but dammit he actually helped. This throws my whole arch Nemesis thing out the window. That SOB.
Time to finish this story, it's due Thursday and I'm just in the middle.
More to come after a short word from my sponsors
2 comments:
don't you hate it when teachers turn out to be kindly and helpful?
remember: writers and professors are socially retarded people, almost always.
each form or genre or style takes practice, and not every writer can do them all. there's a reason why there are really great poets who can't write a novel, or short-story writers whose sad attempt at a novel sucks.
you're still finding your voice, as hideously cliched as that sounds. the other thing to remember: most great writers aren't writing their great stuff until they are in their 30s, 40s or older.
i try to console myself with that, anyway ;)
sounds like you're doing a bit better. if you need to talk, though, i'm always here!
I'm sure you can find something else to hate about him... ;)
Hang in there. It only lasts a little while, then you'll be out in the world...
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