As I slowly rouse from the last four years of pregnant haze and breastfeeding exhaustion, the world becomes slightly clearer, a little brighter, and just a wee bit more attainable.
I decided that I would spend this year investing in myself, dusting off the creative workshops, writing exercises, draft after draft after draft of whatever it is I call that, Short short fiction, prose, poetry, bla bla. It’s totally fine.
So I’ve enrolled in two courses – a short one with Channie Greenberg in Jerusalem, for three weeks. And a commitment of two semesters with the program run by Judy Labensohn called So You Want to Write at David Yellin.
I’ve already got some stuff I want to share but I need to work on it further. One goal of this new direction is to write pieces I’d actually prefer to keep sacred, so I can rewrite and maybe make something of them. Maybe read them to no one at a bar. Maybe read them to the goats that graze across the street.
Maybe read them to you.
Whadya got: