Sorry, No Autographs Please!

 

Writing courses for me weren’t very beneficial - but why did I pursue these courses?  Was I looking to become a famous author?  Of course I was.

I have enrolled in three writing courses, the earliest I recollect quite clearly, and humorous to say the least.  The first one was three years ago.  It was during the summer months, we gathered at a fine hotel downtown in a fairly large room, however, only a few people showed.  The speaker wore Bermuda shorts and donned a Hawaiian shirt (I was suspicious at this point thinking this was possibly a time-share sales rip-off gathering, expecting free tickets to Marine land).  But, it was a writing course, only problem was the guy bragged endlessly about his publications, including his book tours, offers from publishers, “too much work with too little time”, he kept stating.  I sat perplexed thinking, why was he teaching a course in my little city to a group of 7 people?  He continuously stood in front of the overhead, so his figure was on the white board.  He loved this white board, used assorted colored markers for stats (stats for writing?).  Also, PowerPoint pie charts seemed to appeal to him, but not to all of us who would have given anything for a pillow at this point (boring!). I learned nothing from this “wealth-of-knowledge” person and a waste for my $69.50 + tax.

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My next course, about a year later, was inside our downtown library, taught by a woman who was the editor of a farming newsletter.  As she was speaking, my mind was wandering (I do this often-a major flaw in character) thinking, how much could you write about to include in a 2 or 3 page farm weekly newsletter?  I suppose it would be of interest to farmers.   The course proceeded nicely; we were split into groups and given mini assignments.  The only negative was that the instructor appeared to have run out of material, thereby killing two hours at Arby’s, chomping on two orders of roast beef sandwiches, working on an assignment to present to the class in the last half of the day.  Overall though, I did take away some knowledge.

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My third course was put on by a fellow who looked like Perry Mason.  He co-authored a book (forgot the title but something along the lines of “Writing the Perfect Novel”).  The book had a picture of an orange peel as a smile on the cover, which I found a tad odd.  The session was only scheduled from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m., with a few people chastised for arriving at 9:10.  The most inviting part of this session were the huge jugs of ice water, as somehow at presentations I always become thirsty.  The seats were most uncomfortable reminding me of classroom seating, and this was a hotel; so most disappointing.  This aside, the session was a total waste of money and time, as this bozo stood there mostly reading exerts from his “book”.  I was surprised he didn’t have a stack of his books in the wings ready for purchase, already autographed for quick delivery.

Brand new to all of this writing quite a few years back, I still had the smarts to know this guy was shoveling hogwash.  He probably paid to have “Perfect Novel” published.

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My last and final attempt at a course was with the local college.  I was excited about a 4-week online course, but as luck would have it, I needed a student code to register and hounded the college with phone calls, and all to no avail.

So, forget the courses, I will plod along on my own.  My intention is not to have a career in journalism; I enjoy this as a hobby and don’t want to contend with deadlines and such.

Actually, not to brag, (yes, I am) I have been published.  And so, where does this leave me now?  Donning my Collections hat by day, a couple of writing credentials at hand, and having a helluva time writing for fun in my blog.

 

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