The first week of school went well. I love my Tuesday/Thursday classes the most. I suppose that shouldn't be surprising to me since they are my British Literature and Creative Writing classes. I'm not terribly fond of taking Trax and Frontrunner and I'm even less fond of taking the bus but that is the chosen mode of transportation for this semester. It is nice that I can do homework or other such activities on my way to school, but I don't like that I have to get up extra early in order to get to class. Oh well, it's part of the experience, right? Perhaps it can help to improve my writing. I can work on character development and plot content, borrowing characteristics from the people who share the commute and storylines from overheard conversation. We write about life and reality in my Creative Nonfiction class so how else am I going to have things to write about than to witness and participate in lives and reality of others?
Right now I am supposed to be working on homework. I have an assignment for my writing class that isn't due until September 8 but I haven't even come up with a theme yet. I should have two or three drafts by now (according to my teacher), at least one draft. I have some ideas for the subject matter but it all depends on how honest and revealing I am willing to be. And it depends on how personal and deep I want to go. I need an experience that will be interesting for people to read. I need to have a puropse in telling about this experience; some sort of a "life goes on (Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da)" moral. I have some of these experiences but I'm not sure how to write about them, or if I want to write about them. Some of the topics I'm tired of writing about...others I'm afraid to write about. Some seem too silly and immature, others are too mature and deep. Sigh, I just don't know what to write for class.
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