A funny thing happened on the way to writing class...

When I first got the idea that I wanted to write, I figured out pretty quickly that I had a lot to learn. I signed up for some classes at a local college and learned many writing techniques. I also learned that writing instructors are quite an eclectic group.

The first one died. Not actually in class, but before the course was over. It really threw all of us. We were a small group of six and sort of bonded over it and started taking more classes together.

So we were quite shocked when, during the next class, our instructor said she was ill and asked us if anyone had a beta blocker she could take. Was this a sign we should give up writing? Someone gave her a pill.

Things improved. Our future instructors had no obvious health issues.

One of the next classes was taught by a husband/wife team. He was a salty old dog kind of a guy, and his wife was a copious note taker. We never figured out why she took so many notes. They told us on the last day of class that one of the students was their nephew. Of course, I had complained to him during the course about the instructor/his uncle.

Currently I am enrolled in an unconventional writing techniques class. Unconventional is a meek definition of the class. The first night the instructor told us she is a psychic. One of the students is a Wicca witch. We spent a lot of time meditating in that class. I tried very hard to create the images in my mind she wanted us to see. Instead of images, I created a pretty decent headache. I don’t think I’ve got the art of meditation figured out. The instructor had me stay after class so she could heal me. (She’s a healer too.) I claimed the healing before I was because she freaked me out a little. I am curious how this class is going to help my writing. And I’m hoping I won’t need anymore healings!