It’s a rainy, dreary day (my favourite sort of day). This evening in my creative writing workshop, it was my turn to share some of my recent writing. Every week, two of my peers hand out copies of their writing for workshop. That week, the class spends time (outside of class) critiquing and making comments on their work. Then the following class, the two people who handed out their work previously, read their work aloud and the class comments on it and critiques it. Today, was my turn. I was extremely nervous but I managed to contain most of my anxiety as I read aloud to the class. I actually liked the way I read it (exactly how I imagined I sounded when I wrote it). Then, the class commented on my work. I enjoyed the critique I received and was delighted by the positive feedback. Afterwards, on my way to my bus stop, one of my classmates told me that he loved the way I sounded when I read my writing. That was probably the best compliment considering the last time I read aloud I was a high-pitched nervous wreck.
It was a good day. I can actually say I spent a lot of it ‘happy’.