I recently blogged about dealing with my first writerly rejection. In the grand scheme of life, I have accepted this and am already thinking of ways to improve my application for next fall's course consideration.
All that being said, please allow me a very minor sour grapes moment. When leafing through the course catalogue for the local writing center where I had applied to teach my 2-day NaNoWriMo course, I noticed they offer a relatively similar class. My concern is NOT with the class; the teacher is likely well-respected, published, and has taught this class many times before. The writing center is smart to keep going with a tried and trusted model.
But the class is offered two ways: online in a 12-week format ($500+) or a two-day intensive ($180+).
I would've been happy to lead a section over the course of two Saturdays for free, just to introduce people to the world of NaNo and to get some experience leading a group discussion under my belt.
Five hundred dollars for a 12-week online course blows my mind and makes it immediately out of the question. Sadly, I wonder how many other people will be unable to take advantage of the online courses for the same reason. Until I have more funds, I will continue to take a few Saturday classes and meet with my crit group.
Speaking of my crit group, we met last night. Instead of having sections to swap for review, we used the time to write.
That's right. Pure. Writing.
It was heavenly.
And as a result, I have this three-pronged giant of a story twirling around in my head. The scope is SO out of reach but right now, this is okay. It's allowed to be wild and unruly. Hopefully, a few more hours of dreaming, brainstorming, and mapping out possible What if scenarios will help coax the real plot to life. But for now, I'm dumping everything into the funnel. Kidnappings. Fuel needs. Space. Land. Medications. Double crosses. Hope. Family. Faith. Bartering. New technology. Old ways. Lotteries. Rations. Tablets. Restricted areas. Bunkers. Adventure.
There's more to come, I can feel it in my head. But that's a taste of everything that came out last night in only ninety minutes of dedicated writing. Imagine the possibilities if I did that every day...
You tell me: was that sour grapes of me? I don't think it was, but you never know... And when starting a new story idea, do you throw everything and the kitchen sink into your brainstorm in hopes of finding something that sticks?