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I went to a writing workshop Friday and Saturday. I learned some great stuff.
Along with how to shape a scene and to play nice in the author sandbox, I also learned something about myself.
I used to suck everything in at these things. After all, pretty much anyone in the world knew more about writing than I did. But this time, I listened, thought, and then decided I actually disagreed with something that was being taught. (not you, Annette or Josi)
There’s a certain confidence that wasn’t there before. Maybe I’m not an infant writer anymore. Maybe I’m actually a toddler now.
The fact that I feel all kinds of awkward saying that shows how much a baby I still am.
I love it. I remember searching and soaking it in, absorbing all the information I could set my eyes on. Then, I came to a point where I was coming across things I already knew, things I'd learned and understood: concepts, ideas, rules. I could move to something else. I could skip forward. It was a cool feeling. Gain the knowledge and understanding, then judge for yourself. Growing up. Excellent. Still learning.