That bitter feeling of being judged. Of being deemed not worthy enough. Ouch.
As some of you may recall, I submitted a course proposal to our local writing center to lead a two-Saturday course on NaNoWriMo.
Writing the proposal for the course was relatively easy. I took all the things I wish I had known before starting NaNo and massaged them until they became a working syllabus.
But writing the justification as to why they should choose me? Yeah, that was hard. I don't sell myself very well to begin with, but knowing that I was going to be rated on my non-existent qualifications? It was difficult but I kept reminding myself that someone was going to have to take a chance on me sooner or later.
I asked in this email for any feedback:
"Thank you very much for letting me know about the status of my proposed NaNoWriMo course for the fall. If you have a few moments to provide any feedback on how I can improve my proposal, I am eager to learn as much as I can. Was there something specific that stood out as a problem, or was it simply considered a redundancy since you already offer a Book in 30 Days course?"Here was the response:
"My primary reservation is her lack of qualifications: no fiction publishing credits (or any other publishing credits), no teaching experience and she’s only done NaNo twice. I think her course objectives look good, her syllabus looks pretty good, the exercise seems okay BUT it assumes all students must prepare an outline even students who identifies themselves as a “pantsers” (so why even ask students if they’re pantsers or planners?). I do think a single or double session class on NaNo is a good idea."Sigh. The class proposal wasn't the problem; it was the person proposing the class.
But, this writing center is top-notch. As a student of their courses, I have high expectations of their teaching artists, so I am going to reconcile my emotions, use this as motivation to improve my writing resume, and try again next year.
For now though, you can understand if I'm going to wallow just a bit longer. Don't judge if I self-medicate with chocolate chip cookies.