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Not yet

My short story was critiqued by the writing group on Saturday. Lots of negative comments forthcame (and I don’t see why you can’t have ‘forthcoming’ in the past tense), but all, or nearly all, perfectly justified. I was a little nervous as it came up to my turn, but once the feedback was in progress I felt fine. In fact, it was quite pleasurable to have all these people talking to me, taking me and my work seriously, and their remarks often made me smile in recognition.

After that I felt more like a fully-fledged member of the group, and, bearing in mind everything I’ve been thinking about recently around the issue of wanting more friends, I went to a restaurant with a few of the other members afterwards. (Call me a cheapskate if you will … pardon, what was that? Oh – you just called me a cheapskate, very droll … but £15 for a meal, while it isn’t going to bankrupt me, is about as much as I spend on groceries in a week (OK, maybe five days).) The experience was fine, although I did get the crappy fifth chair on the end of a four-seater table. Surprisingly, I didn’t seem to be the least talkative person in the group. To eat, I had calamari and mousaka; quite pleasant.

So the big question is: What now as regards my critiqued short story? Hmm, dunno. I need to carve out some chunks of my life to dedicate towards writing. More importantly, I need the willpower to stick to that regime. Watch this space.

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Categories: Creativity, Life
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