Title : Writer's Circle: Lillian H Smith Library
link : Writer's Circle: Lillian H Smith Library
Writer's Circle: Lillian H Smith Library
24 September, 2011
I'd just gotten back from Panama (read about it here) with a duty-free souvenir that was more painful than Customs, even. The husband and I got home at 1am (hello, 16 degrees in Toronto, happy to see you after 30-degree Panama weather), devoured a packet of banana chips because the airline's idea of a vegetarian meal was three slices of uncooked brinjal and a crusty piece of bread, and then, for some reason, decided to stay awake a while more.
So I finally woke up jet-lagged and bleary-eyed, did three rounds of laundry (the downside to long vacations) and just as I was sitting down with a relieved sigh, my phone insistently reminded me that I'd foolishly committed to attending a mid-day writer's circle the day I got back. I groaned & deliberated but finally decided I'd go, because I was starting work soon and couldn't take a rain-check.
It was a memoir writing group, and while I don't plan to write memoirs just yet, it must be said I have a remarkable way of committing every single tiny detail to memory and being able to wax eloquent about each (just ask my husband about one of our early fights :D) I figured it was as good a writing exercise as any. The rest of the group consisted of seniors, and we essentially picked topics from a box, then wrote about whatever the topic inspired for 15 minutes before reading out what we'd written.
I took along my favorite notebook for inspiration, and soon had two pages of crossed-out scribblings while everyone else had written out three pages of solid text. Never in my life have I felt so tempted to copy :P I managed to string a couple of paragraphs together while the group read out their pieces, and the gasp of appreciation and the chorus of 'aaah's made. my. day. I should totally do this more often.
I'd just gotten back from Panama (read about it here) with a duty-free souvenir that was more painful than Customs, even. The husband and I got home at 1am (hello, 16 degrees in Toronto, happy to see you after 30-degree Panama weather), devoured a packet of banana chips because the airline's idea of a vegetarian meal was three slices of uncooked brinjal and a crusty piece of bread, and then, for some reason, decided to stay awake a while more.
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| My favorite notebook |
It was a memoir writing group, and while I don't plan to write memoirs just yet, it must be said I have a remarkable way of committing every single tiny detail to memory and being able to wax eloquent about each (just ask my husband about one of our early fights :D) I figured it was as good a writing exercise as any. The rest of the group consisted of seniors, and we essentially picked topics from a box, then wrote about whatever the topic inspired for 15 minutes before reading out what we'd written.I took along my favorite notebook for inspiration, and soon had two pages of crossed-out scribblings while everyone else had written out three pages of solid text. Never in my life have I felt so tempted to copy :P I managed to string a couple of paragraphs together while the group read out their pieces, and the gasp of appreciation and the chorus of 'aaah's made. my. day. I should totally do this more often.
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