Revelations

Now that cloud nine has sunk a little closer to the ground I can spiel rationally about class last night. Caleb veered from diving straight into workshopping like we have been and gave us a nice lecture on literary analysis. Utah Voices 2011 was our text book.

What happened next was amazing. I watched Caleb turn words on a page into ART by having us explain examples of narrative voice and helping us see the craft that was really in play on each page. He explained why the paintings in the middle of the book were carefully planned, structured art based on tools of the craft he understood.

I was in awe.

But I was also worried. Because before he explained the paintings I didn't really "get" them. I thought they were beautiful and in the context of the poems, amazing, but I didn't fully appreciate the craft and master behind them until I understood art a little better. Does that same thing happen in writing? Does the general public read words and say, "yeah, that's nice" with out really appreciating the value of the craft before their eyes?

Well...Yeah...

Anyway.

When we got to workshop time I was properly shielded. I had lectured myself that this was my last "go" at proving myself. I had agonizingly put together a page that exhausted my brain energy, honestly. If it wasn't "right" I was throwing in the towel, because this was the kind of stuff I was going to produce every time. Period.

Every excerpt had Caleb gushing. The man wanted to do a jig. Seriously. The wiggly, hopping, tra-la-la kind.

(tee hee--could not resist)

Me? I wanted to lay on the floor and catch my breath like a marathon runner who finally dragged themselves across the finish line. I MADE it. What ever I did, I did it right.

Final words of the critique: Now we've just gotta pray that you can KEEP DOING IT.

Amen, bro. Amen.