I clicked the “Pay Now” button to enroll in a Women’s Non-Fiction Writing Workshop offered by the Indiana Writers Center. Immediately the fight or flight portion of my brain fired up, alerting Fannie Fearful. (Fannie lives in my head. She’s in charge of making sure my comfort zone stays very small and safe.) Fannie’s an expert in warning me how situations will not go well. She began to rant.
“This workshop’s for younger women. They’ll show up wearing lululemon and their phones will constantly ping with texts, tweets and play date reminders. They’ll write about their young children, difficult husbands and how they can’t find rewarding work related to their Masters degrees.”
“WE’LL BE OUTSIDERS!”
“WE’LL REMIND THEM OF THEIR MOTHERS…WEARING OUR ADIDAS SWEATS AND KEDS!”
“THEY’LL ROLL THEIR EYES WHEN WE SHARE OUR WRITING!”
In an effort to calm Fannie, I made her a deal. I told her we would go to the workshop and if she was right, we’d never go back.
Inexcusably late for the first workshop which, of course, started on time, I quietly entered the room and sat on the first available seat. Our significantly younger workshop facilitator graciously welcomed me. I looked around the room expecting to see those lululemon clad young women Fannie had warned me about. What I saw were seven women ranging in age between mid forty to early eighties.
Over the next six weeks I connected with these women through their essays. From different backgrounds and lifestyles, collectively they were warriors, survivors and historians with enviable writing skills. They captured events and moments with such detail, candor and imagery you couldn’t help but shed a tear or laugh or at the least, personally relate. Always humble with the best intentions, their critiques were always supportive and helpful.
These women taught me much about writing and reminded me of some things I often forget about life. Hopefully my fellow workshop attendees will read this as a kind of thank you. I didn’t use your names, but you know who you are!
When writing, simply ‘tell the page’. When writing about the past, maintain distance by watching a memory in the same manner as you watch a movie.
The stories behind the photograph of a woman wearing a man’s hat or a butcher knife in a display case are far more important to share than the photo or the actual object.
Be an audacious writer. Try to clear “wooded emotion” in order to shine light on what needs to be said. Personally I may never reach the caliber of wordsmithery as a woman in my workshop, but I will attempt to express more by saying less.
Flat out, I will never mindlessly devour M&M’s again.
I no longer feel alone in my desire to retire skills that have allowed me to make a living in favor of following a passion to, I don’t know, create a one act play, seek adventures or learn new skills.
Encouraged, I will continue to quiet Frannie Fearful and hike rainy, treacherous trails, whether real or metaphorical. I have seen through your writings the reward of enduring exhaustion and fear to follow a path toward a new experience.
I was also reminded that a life well lived is measured by the thousands of seemingly small ways we show love to one another. Like giving someone a foot rub, or cooking or playing Monopoly-even though you may hate Monopoly.
What’s a boomer to do?
I challenge you to strike a deal with the Fannie Fearful in your own head and expand your comfort zone. Find a tribe who shares your passions. Here are a few links to maybe get you started.
You know, you really didn’t fool me but I duped myself. You are a professional writer. Published and Paid. I missed that one telling line in this essay.
And you were doing what I was just learning about, which is, to write an entire memoir with a compilation of short essays. You go, girl. I’m still at it though sporadically and having a heck of a time organizing. As a matter of fact that’s what I was planning on doing when my mind sidetracked to follow you. So glad I did.
Hi Sheila! So nice to hear from you and thanks for stopping in! “Published and Paid”? More like Self-Published and NO Pay. But you understand. Writing is not about the money, it’s just something we gotta do!
Keep writing my friend and my offer sill holds. When you are ready to share your word-crafting with the rest of the world, I will help you get your site set up.
Much Respect,
B
Don’t know if first comment got through so here goes again or a reasonable facsimile. So good to see you in print again. You give a touching review of what took place over those five glorious weeks. I’ll never forget it.
I’ve been feeling like Lonesome Lena with no writing schedules or classmates to learn from. It’s rough. Don’t know if I’ll make the cut for WR6. Hope so.
God Bless,
Wow! (as my dear dad, still starts all his letters of praise & thanks)…I am one of those ‘older’ gals in your writing workshop…and I know the sadness you talk about today. We formed a quick intimacy through our revealing words. I miss you, the other workshop attendees, our youngster teacher and your friend that was on the cover of Time magazine…keep on writing and encouraging us to be real, to be seen and to not listen to our inner Fannie…who ‘thinks’ she knows best.
Let’s embrace instead, Lannie Love…sounds mushy, but she’s the real deal.