Blog Assignment #7: Final Workshop Reflection

This was the first creative writing course I've experienced and I am most grateful for the introduction to writers like Truman Capote, Frank McCourt, David Foster Wallace, and David Sedaris as well as the introduction to narrative.ly.  Another great tool would be the class dedicated to building a portfolio with the intention of sending work out to different publishers.  The opportunity to write creatively about some of my experiences as well as getting in touch with my imagination did not feel like work.  It was enjoyable and allowed me take some components from these writers as well as the talented writers in the class, and use it in my own work.  Although, I felt the course left more to be desired and I didn't really understand the point of group work.  The blog assignments were a lot more effective, in my opinion. 

I believe my improvement was marginal but the course gave me more confidence in my writing ability.  I no longer see writing as a chore despite the struggle in getting things running.  The challenge I faced was really understanding what I needed to do to revise some of my pieces along with finding interesting things to write about.  I really enjoyed reading Angela's Ashes since it was told from the perspective of a child and it gave such a nice innocent voice to an interesting tale.  The piece inspired me when it came time to write our third blog assignment, which was to write about a historical photograph.  Another author who stands out as the most entertaining is David Sedaris.  Both Turbulence and Me Talk Pretty One Day were hysterical while poking fun at peculiar situations we all find ourselves in at least one in our life.  His writing in both pieces was engaging and perfectly mixed description of setting, characters and the thought process of a quirky individual. 

The assignment I am most proud of will probably be the memoir piece in which I wrote about my childhood experience about sneaking into a construction site.  The reason I enjoyed writing it is because I genuinely enjoyed that memory and it's one that I'll never forget.  The narrative was inspired by a piece read out loud in class about a student who no longer saw the same neighborhood when they reflected on their childhood friends and memories as an adult.  I will try and get it published but I won't be holding my breath.  Here is a taste:       

The Last Night Across The Street

I couldn't remember how old I was but I do remember that my cousins were young enough to still hang out with me and the rest of the younger bunch.  We looked across the street through the living room window and no longer saw an empty parking lot where we used to light matches and play catch.  Instead, we saw two giant blue doors with a chain poorly connecting the two together. 

A construction site that would eventually house a seven story mediocre inn.  My dad would always talk to the man in charge of the construction site.  He seemed nice.  But boys will be boys and there was no way we'd let our curiosity go to waste.  One night I noticed my two older cousins come home with smiles from ear to ear.  They had one hell of a night, which during that time usually meant doing something illegal.  I always looked up to my cousins so naturally I began snooping around once I knew there was no way I'd get a straight answer from the two.

My sisters and I happened to catch the two culprits across the street one empty night.  They stood in front of the unfinished building and pushed the doors in opposite directions as the chain was too loose to keep them out.  I couldn't believe my eyes.  How could they not invite me?  It was then and there that I decided I'd invite myself along with my two sisters.  I guess my dog decided he'd like to check out what was going on inside the unpolished building too.  He was a loyal dog who was always up for an adventure.  The streets were usually empty around 8 pm as the abandoned block was filled with factories with my house at the dead center of nowhere.  Oh, how I miss it.