Finding Your Voice in Pandemic Times
Each day during the five-week course, you’ll get a short video or e-mail from me with a writing prompt and sometimes some thoughts about writing. You’ll write on the prompt for 10 minutes, record yourself reading your unedited draft, and post the audio to our private virtual classroom where your classmates will listen without judgment. This does a few things: it gets out of your head and into the world so you can move on; it gives us an opportunity to practice sharing our imperfect first cut thoughts, and it lets you hear how your writing sounds, which is a great way to find your authentic voice. You notice the clumsy bits, the extra words, the parts that you love, or the parts that don’t ring true. I think having a daily prompt and a chance to share it (optional, of course, but encouraged) is a good way to create a new habit, or refresh an old habit. What you’ll notice when you write daily is that things will bubble up that want to be written, things you weren’t conscious of, and your day is brighter.
Once a week, we’ll gather via zoom to do some discussion and sharing and working on pieces together. Each person will complete (at least) one essay, and at the end of the course, we’ll have a virtual reading where everyone will share their essay, and be able to invite others.
We’re in the weeds with the pandemic. We don’t know when or how it will end, and how much suffering will happen along the way; we’re tired of it all. Many of us are filled with anxiety about the state of the world. This is why we write. We write because we love. We love the world, we love our people. And sometimes we forget that. Writing is one path out of the weeds. It’s a way to grieve our losses, and find our way tenderly toward a new path. It’s a way to untie all the tangled mess in that live in our heads. The grief that accompanies this pandemic. When we write, we start see things a little differently, we carry on a little bit lighter.
Natalie Goldberg says, “The deepest secret in our heart of hearts is that we are writing because we love the world.” I’d like to add that sometimes, we love the world because we write. Writing is holding the pretty little marble that is our life up to the light, twirling it around this way and that, falling in love all over again with how it glitters and sparkles in a certain light. That's especially hard during these times.
Dates: October 5, 2020 - November 7, 2020
Zoom Meetings: 4-5:30 on Sunday afternoon: 10/11, 10/18, 10/25; 11/1
Online Reading Event: 7-9 PM on 11/7.
Cost: $100. Scholarships available upon request.
SIGN UP HERE
Each day during the five-week course, you’ll get a short video or e-mail from me with a writing prompt and sometimes some thoughts about writing. You’ll write on the prompt for 10 minutes, record yourself reading your unedited draft, and post the audio to our private virtual classroom where your classmates will listen without judgment. This does a few things: it gets out of your head and into the world so you can move on; it gives us an opportunity to practice sharing our imperfect first cut thoughts, and it lets you hear how your writing sounds, which is a great way to find your authentic voice. You notice the clumsy bits, the extra words, the parts that you love, or the parts that don’t ring true. I think having a daily prompt and a chance to share it (optional, of course, but encouraged) is a good way to create a new habit, or refresh an old habit. What you’ll notice when you write daily is that things will bubble up that want to be written, things you weren’t conscious of, and your day is brighter.
Once a week, we’ll gather via zoom to do some discussion and sharing and working on pieces together. Each person will complete (at least) one essay, and at the end of the course, we’ll have a virtual reading where everyone will share their essay, and be able to invite others.
We’re in the weeds with the pandemic. We don’t know when or how it will end, and how much suffering will happen along the way; we’re tired of it all. Many of us are filled with anxiety about the state of the world. This is why we write. We write because we love. We love the world, we love our people. And sometimes we forget that. Writing is one path out of the weeds. It’s a way to grieve our losses, and find our way tenderly toward a new path. It’s a way to untie all the tangled mess in that live in our heads. The grief that accompanies this pandemic. When we write, we start see things a little differently, we carry on a little bit lighter.
Natalie Goldberg says, “The deepest secret in our heart of hearts is that we are writing because we love the world.” I’d like to add that sometimes, we love the world because we write. Writing is holding the pretty little marble that is our life up to the light, twirling it around this way and that, falling in love all over again with how it glitters and sparkles in a certain light. That's especially hard during these times.
Dates: October 5, 2020 - November 7, 2020
Zoom Meetings: 4-5:30 on Sunday afternoon: 10/11, 10/18, 10/25; 11/1
Online Reading Event: 7-9 PM on 11/7.
Cost: $100. Scholarships available upon request.
SIGN UP HERE
About me: My first publication was in the Modern Love column of the New York Times
(“Bringing a Daughter Back from the Brink with Poems,” 3/1/15). The essay was well-received and shared on social media more than 85,000 times. I enjoy working with people to bring out their creative stories. More of my writing can be found here and here.
(“Bringing a Daughter Back from the Brink with Poems,” 3/1/15). The essay was well-received and shared on social media more than 85,000 times. I enjoy working with people to bring out their creative stories. More of my writing can be found here and here.