Tonight was week three on my creative writing course and to be honest I'm begining to wonder what I'm doing there. I can't remember a time when I felt less creative. Its not just the writing front, my knitting's not holding my attention, neither are the books I'm reading, the newspapers, tv or the internet.
But the thing that's worrying me most is the writing. I'm sitting in class each week listening to things that other people have written, at the same time as me, on the same topic and I hear lively, polished pieces with a clear voice, wonderful vocabulary and interesting details. In comparison my writing feels dull and lacklusture. I feel like I've completely forgotten how to write.
The much beloved is trying to be understanding and supportive in telling me that as long as I'm happy writing that's the main thing. It doesn't matter if we get published or what everyone else's is like. I'd love to believe him, but this whole year is costing him £500 and I'm a tad worried that at the end of the year I'll have nothing to show for it and nothing even vaguely publishable. Perhaps all this year is going to do is reveal me as a literary wanabe and a fake?
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