Just An Update

School has been kicking my ass. I don’t remember this much reading as an undergrad, which makes sense. It has been almost twenty years since I graduated college.  

I’m taking a creative nonfiction workshop. Aside from our own personal essays (two), we also short pieces (a paragraph or so) on a specific theme. Nothing polished, really.  

We also read a few essays: 

• “Three Spheres” by Lauren Slater 

• “Only Daughter” by Sandra Cisneros 

• “Beauty: When the Other Dancer Is the Self” by Alice Walker 

• “Día de Muertos” by Stephanie Elizondo Griest 

• “I Remain Very Sorry For What I Did to the Little Black Kitten” by Jenny Boully 

We were also assigned You Can’t Make This Stuff Up: The Complete Guide to Writing Creative Nonfiction by Lee Gutkind, which I finished last week (I think). That also carries some essays, including the previously mentioned “Three Spheres.”  

Currently reading Children of the Land, a memoir by Marcelo Hernandez Castillo, which mirrors a lot of the current events with this administration’s mishandling of immigration. 

I submitted my first draft of the first assigned essay. Because I have been on a Dawson’s Creek binge (a James Van Der Beek binge, really), I titled the piece “My Life as a Teen Drama.” It’s a retelling of my queer awakening in high school. It was supposed to be a shorter piece, 6-10 pages, but wound up a little over 12. No biggie, I hope. Hopefully, the workshop next week gives me feedback on what points of the story I should focus on.  

This isn’t the first time I have written this story, though previous versions have been fictional retellings. One aspect I ignored was that all this happened around the time I was in my first relationship with a girl. I almost made that mistake with this telling, but because it was such a vital part of my inner conflict, I knew I couldn’t ignore it. I know that a lot of the scenes of the story are bare bones, and I need to add in more detail and setting descriptions. I just don’t know where.  

Another student wrote about their queer awakening in high school, and I began to anaylize what they did different (not structure wise, but story wise). While I focused mostly on my friends and life in high school, they focused more on their household, what their parents would think. And I wondered if my mom’s reaction had ever crossed my mind when I had feelings for another boy. Because I have no notes on the matter, I didn’t even think about it during this writing. I guess we’ll never know how 16-year-old me handled that.