Writing my Life

Last week I signed up for a writing workshop at Gemini Ink in downtown San Antonio ( Gemini Ink. ) I'm excited. I've never done a writing workshop unless you count Advanced Writing class at Milligan. The workshop is called We Must Write the Words or the Words Will Write Us. My school is paying for it, since I get 6 professional development credits for it.

I had to submit a writing sample of three pages. Either poetry or prose. Ever since attending an Episcopal church, I've had problems with Either/Or assignments. I'm all about the Both/And. I'm Charismatic and Liturgical. I'm Emotional and Educated. I just got done doing a Bible Study on Brian McLaren's book A Generous Orthodoxy. It's all about the paradoxes of faith. Thus, I wrote a memory. In prose but heavily accentuated with poetic images and structure.

I sat down over a week ago and tried to start one of my ideas for a brilliant short story. Something inspired by a newspaper clipping or a conversation I overheard. But in my voice, I heard Natalie Goldberg or Anne Lamotte or some other writer I admire whispering in my ear, "Write what you know."

What do I know? I know I'm a feminist, and I'm married. I'm independent, but I'm committed. A both/and again. So I wrote about my dorm room in Hart, about Opie, my roommate, and her guitar Austin. About my friend who's in Montana while I'm in Texas.

And I felt like I was writing about something I knew. I knew the images, the emotions. I felt it deeply, missed it, but wouldn't go back.

It's a beautiful thing, writing my life.

The workshop people will probably tear it apart. But that's okay.

It's a start.