"Would you please stop reading!" the command came. I was bitterly hurt.
"We write to be published here, said the dowager who ran the class.
She had a sort of home counties scrubbed air about her.
"I mean do you want to be published?"
"Well, not really. I mean I Live in the 'real' world, and being published has changed irrevocably, there is no longer a line in the sand. Everyone is published these days,"
As they talked the group I realised they were mostly ex-teachers, the kiss of death to thinking.
"Write about what you know." Came the condescending aside from another ex-teacher.
This Write about what you know is a Creative Writing clichés of staggering inanity,
For how could one write about what you don't know?
I left the room, confidence dented.
"We write to be published here, said the dowager who ran the class.
She had a sort of home counties scrubbed air about her.
"I mean do you want to be published?"
"Well, not really. I mean I Live in the 'real' world, and being published has changed irrevocably, there is no longer a line in the sand. Everyone is published these days,"
As they talked the group I realised they were mostly ex-teachers, the kiss of death to thinking.
"Write about what you know." Came the condescending aside from another ex-teacher.
This Write about what you know is a Creative Writing clichés of staggering inanity,
For how could one write about what you don't know?
I left the room, confidence dented.
No comments:
Post a Comment