Life at Writing Camp

So, the writing workshop is awesome, and actually a lot more like camp than I expected—a pretty satisfying mix of structured activities and free time.

There's coffee and fruit and pastries at 8:30 and then I'm in class from 9:00 AM to noon each day.

"What?" asked Ben, when he heard I only had three hours of class a day. "I thought it would be like boot camp: 'Drop and give me a metaphor, maggots.' 'I want a literary allusion and I want it now!' 'You call that irony?'"

"Three hours a day is a lot," I said.

"I sort of imagined a Rocky-like montage," he said. "You know, pictures of you all sharpening your pencils, then a shot of you all writing in your little notebooks. Except the music is a customized version of Survivor's 'Eye of the Tiger,' like that Starbuck's commercial."

It's not quite like that, but it's still pretty intense. I have the afternoon to write and prepare for the next day's class, and then there are readings and artist talks every evening. My instructor is great, and my classmates are interesting people and really good writers. I'm determined to make the most of my time here.

The only bad news—and it's really only bad news for the Cow Skulls—is that I haven't managed to find a new topic, so be prepared for more of the same. Sooner or later I will write my way out.