Of Writers and Ghoulies

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From Ghoulies and Ghosties, Long-Leggitie Beasties . . .

(Part 24)

"Far, far away." 

(Continued tomorrow.)


And my commentary . . . 

  

Over the hills and far away . . . East of the Sun and west of the Moon . . . Once upon a time. . .  It's astonishing how evocative a simple clutch of unadorned words can be.

You can read all of the story to date here.

And on Tuesday . . .  

Two days ago,  I spoke to the Brandywine Valley Writers Group in West Chester.   Normally I'm reluctant to speak about writing, or rather abot how to write.  My experience has been that if I agree to teach at a weekend-long workshop, I don't get to do any real teaching -- I can only talk at the attendees.  At the Clarion workshops, which last a full week, on the other hand, I not only work myself into exhaustion but can see the students growing, even incrementally, before my eyes.

So I accepted this invitation in the spirit of open-mindedness. 

I was right to do so.  I was speaking to a pub-room-full of writers or varying achievement (so far) and uniform ambition.  And it was very satisfying.  Because I could see they were all listening carefully and filing away what I had to say in order to try it out on their own writing.

All the writer can ask for is that the reader give his story a chance.  Similarly, all a teacher can ask is that the student consider the possibility that what he has to say might be useful.

Will it be?  Maybe.  I'll never know, though.  Those who become writers do so with such tremendous effort that the positive effects of teachers and lecturers are minor, and quickly forgotten. 

As, I believe, they should be.

Above:  Horseshoe crab sheds.  No particular reason.
 

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