I’m stepping out of my comfort zone. Or at least into something that feels uncomfortable. I signed up for a poetry workshop with the local poet laureate. I’d seen an advertisement for it a while back but didn’t think too much about it until someone shared it in our building’s Facebook page; they were hoping to go with someone they knew. I don’t know this person, although I’ve probably run into her over the last ten months, but after exchanging a couple of messages with her I decided to go for it.

I’ve written poetry before, of course. You may have read some of it here. I’m proud of some of it. Some of it though, ugh…

Unless you count high school and college, I’ve never taken an in-person writing class. I’ve done a few online courses but the ones I’ve completed don’t give you any feedback on your work. That’s the kicker. Until now I’ve been coasting on feedback from friends and family: the best and worst critics. Best because most of the time they tell you what you want to hear. They’re usually kind. Worst because you don’t get any real critiques or constructive feedback. And that kind of feedback is the uncomfortable part.

I’m nervous about this workshop. What if I the words don’t come to me? What will I write about? I don’t know if they will give us prompts, or really anything about the workshop other than that on the last day we can share our work.

I’m also optimistic though. I hope to come away inspired. Maybe even leave with a friend or two. Maybe I’ll be a little more prolific or at least more regular on this blog. Wish me luck!