Creative Writing (1)

Photo by Thom Holmes on Unsplash

Well, I finally bit the bullet and took a creative writing online course this month. With my love of learning, reading, and hopes of becoming a writer, this was the perfect opportunity to take a course, especially since my media program did not have a course I wanted or needed to take for the winter term. I went back and forth on whether or not to take this course because of the following reasons:

A. We had to write poetry…..

  • I’m not a fan of getting in touch with my own emotions and feelings, including sharing those with others. I contemplated dropping the course several times because of this as well as logging in just to get the syllabus and materials for writing the short story and then dropping the class.

B. We were getting critiqued by our peers and professor

  • As an art major in college, I was used to this process, but this was a whole different type of vulnerability. The saving grace was the “safety” of it being an online course. The critiques and feedback were delivered electronically instead of face-to-face. I was not ready for the latter, so this was a good step to getting used to that process if I want to continue writing more.

In the second day of the course, we wrote a letter to our professor expressing our hopes for the course as well as what we feared. Here is sampling of what I wrote:

Writing has been the one area of interest I have not taken a huge investment in. It is kind of comical since I spend most of my time writing blog posts that end up being personal journal entries about a book or bookish topic. Maybe since that is truth, I am more comfortable sharing to mainly an audience I have never personally met rather than indulging in my imagination and random thoughts about a “good” story….

For this class, I am hoping to actually finish a piece of writing and be able to share it. Additionally, I want to learn how to develop characters, a plot, and major elements of great storytelling – leading to more opportunities and confidence to continue long after the course is finished at the end of the month.

Although quite disciplined in many aspects of my life, writing has been the one I have consistently put off. I am proud to say that stepping outside my comfort zone and taking this course has given me that push to write – under a deadline, yes, but also meaningful content that I wanted to explore thanks to great exercises I took part in to find that “inspiration”. I spent most of my lunch hour reading about techniques and strategies for poems and short stories and then diving in to writing some of my own – it became a part of my day I looked forward to! I do not know what is in store for me after the course wraps up, but I am hopeful that what I have learned will stick and be utilized for future projects.

Over the course of the next month, I will be sharing a piece from our final portfolio in the class on the blog. There won’t be much context given as not much usually is when work is shared publicly. As they say, no two people read the same thing – in this case short story or poem. All will be found in my Writing Portfolio page.


Without further ado, here is my first piece I would like to share, a poem:

“What Team”

Knit socks pulled up to just
below my knees. Pads worn
to the stuffing adorned
my ankles, and fresh blue
polyester molded
to curves I never knew.
Today is the day, my
mantra through the autumn.

Begin again running
through the double doors in
to the echoing boom
of balls bouncing against
the glossy hardwood, the
voices reverberate
off the faded brick walls,
a routine symphony.
Officials ready with
whistles and plastic flags.

The white sphere soars across,
aligning with the sun’s
brightness filtering in,
a spotlight for the stage.
Games pass one by one, two
by two, on and on. Their
pools of sweat contrast my
beads of anxiety.
Waiting, knees bouncing, eyes
shifting from coach to floor.

Clouds grow darker through the<
high panes, cast shadows on
glorified blue pennants,
arms fold across my chest,
covering the name they
honor. The crowd knows us,
knows them. Same old, same old.

Buzzer signals the end.
Shake hands, huddle up.
Hands in, team on three. Start
to clean up, knowing my
place. Risk a glance to the
>stands. She’s slouched, zipping her
faded handbag, arms outstretched.
Enveloping her cub.
Tears. Here we go again.


What have you been working on in the creative writing department? What tips/advice do you have?


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