rosinflux, that was the greatest compliment. Thank you!
at the moment, i'm so flabbergasted, i don't know what else to say.
in college, i had a good friend named Paul, who had his own column in our university paper. he was a pretty good writer. he was cynical and funny, but manic depressive and did drugs.
one day i read a poem to him over the phone and he told me he thought it was the greatest thing he'd ever heard. we were in the same creative writing class. well before the class, he told me he wanted to go out with me. i told him i liked him as friend, but that i wasn't interested in him. when it was my turn for the class to critique my work, i kind of got blown away and Paul was the instigator, sorta. He said he found faults with the structure and pretty much bashed it.
I think from then on, I've had serious doubts about my writing abilities or the possibility of ever being an effective writer. I tried writing a few stories, but I never finished them because after rereading them, they sounded stupid, so I gave up.
thank you for the encouragement rosinflux. it meant a lot to me especially today, because this morning I worked on writing a list of people who discouraged my self-worth or artistic abilities and a list of people who encouraged me. I was suprised to say the list of mentors and monsters almost equalled out. I almost forgot those teachers and friends who cheered me on and told me to keep trying.
what was in that cough syrup? or for that matter the sp? I've had nights like that, but usually only after heavy drinking or medication (and occasionally both).
ahhh - the codeine... weird, isn't it? like a chunk of your life was erased or something... you know you lived through it, but there's just no recall of any part of that period. very twilight zone (cue twangy guitar).
.
at the moment, i'm so flabbergasted, i don't know what else to say.
in college, i had a good friend named Paul, who had his own column in our university paper. he was a pretty good writer. he was cynical and funny, but manic depressive and did drugs.
one day i read a poem to him over the phone and he told me he thought it was the greatest thing he'd ever heard. we were in the same creative writing class. well before the class, he told me he wanted to go out with me. i told him i liked him as friend, but that i wasn't interested in him. when it was my turn for the class to critique my work, i kind of got blown away and Paul was the instigator, sorta. He said he found faults with the structure and pretty much bashed it.
I think from then on, I've had serious doubts about my writing abilities or the possibility of ever being an effective writer. I tried writing a few stories, but I never finished them because after rereading them, they sounded stupid, so I gave up.
thank you for the encouragement rosinflux. it meant a lot to me especially today, because this morning I worked on writing a list of people who discouraged my self-worth or artistic abilities and a list of people who encouraged me. I was suprised to say the list of mentors and monsters almost equalled out. I almost forgot those teachers and friends who cheered me on and told me to keep trying.