Is. 40: 31 But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.
Well I did it. I took the six-week free writing course. Yes it was the one I had sworn never to step foot in again but there was a reason I went back. I had to prove to myself that I was as stable as I was last year when all the attacks took place and put me on the outside, looking in.
The assignments were the same: Characterization via your character, conflict, dialogue, senses, POV, and the finale of a short story. Whew, what a seven weeks it was. The first week was getting to know people and the new site, and that was interesting to say the least.
I was locked out of all the classrooms, except one, so the fun and excitement of the course was wiped right off the slate from the get go. I met some new folk and caught up with some old who actually accepted my friend request after last years fiasco. I was feeling welcome until I realized everyone else had the privilege of running the halls and basking in the classrooms, getting to comment on others work while I was like a prisoner, a castoff set aside in the Ripley’s Believe It or Not, to be visited and gawked at.
This was a test of my stability of mind. I could have flown off the handle, damned them all to the pits of hell, but lo-and-behold, I kept my head. I kept my head and acted like a grown woman, and respectfully continued with the lessons. My classroom was active at first with 22 students eager to learn and I could not help but wear the mentoring cap that I had donned for seven or so years prior. I was in the student’s chair and had to remember that. Even as the mentor only appeared once a week, to give tips and answer questions, the intern had his/her own college studies to attend to; the classroom dwindled, while others were as active as week one.
As one week turned into five, I found myself published in the not so famous ezine, which is really a pick of the best lessons put on display. This is where I saw others work yet I yearned to see the other classrooms, my old friends, to be a part of a community, but there I sat, idle in my classroom, twiddling my thumbs, that had three people left (so many to choose from for the ezine, eh?) By my fifth week I was feeling hurt that no one but newcomers (and one old friend) came and read my lesson, expecting me to do the same to them, but I bit my lip and told maybe two people, I was a caged bird.
I felt on the inside that all the mentors were well aware of my status, seeing that many did not want to return because of all the DRAMA that *I* supposedly caused? One mentor, a MAIN asset, bailed on this session and has told me he may never return, or at least not for a while. Even he was sickened by the treatment I’d received.
The funny part of all this is, I was not the dramatic one last session. If my memory serves me correct, I was attacked, they spit horrible words at me and all wrote the administrator to tell him I had lost it. So he believing them, set me free from the course, but allowed me to return this session as a student, but in a locked cage, protecting himself, the mentors and myself, from BIG BAD ME! Funny isn’t it?
Lesson six, the short story I had in my mind from the get go, Rapunzel, was woven and spun. While my lessons were about another short story I’m writing, Rapunzel was being saved for lesson six. I’d like to post it tomorrow, grammatical errors and all. I just wanted my readers to know, this bird may be caged, but on an eagles wings, I soar!