Ten-Finger Exercises

creative friday

Actually, I'm probably not so creative on Fridays, but that's the day I have both the short story class and the watercolor class. Hope next quarter to have them on separate days!

The story went well. About eight of us read stories today, on greatly varied topics but all extremely well done. Much of this group has been together for a few years and are very comfortable with each others' styles. A couple of them write stories from their experiences, memes I suppose you'd call them but written like short fiction.

All the comments that are made are positive. That feels a little lame to me. I prefer the feedback I get here with your impressions and suggestions.

There is some clock in this house that is alarming, and I have no idea which one or why. Bill's gone for the weekend. It's undoubtedly one of his, probably the one that warns us when the temperature might drop below freezing. We've never figured out how to turn off that feature, so I may have to hunt it down and hide it in a drawer.

While I'm thinking about writing groups, my poetry group continues to meet weekly without the old leader, the professional poet. She was a great help and offered good advice, but she managed to get offended or make enemies of people far too. often for an adult with any stability. She's moving out of town, and because of the riff with some folks, has ignored us all. Too bad. For her and for us too.

Too bad Bill's gone tonight. I never sleep well when he's gone, and never when it's near freezing (see above).I also never sleep well on Monday nights after poetry or Fridays after short stories. Words tumble around in
head all night like gym shoes in the dryer, ka-bump, ka-bump.