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Opening Myself Up

So, I went to the Glimmer Train group last night, and I felt so out of place. I felt like a scribbler in a roomful of serious people. I know that I'm capable of good writing, but it's tough when everyone else is writing things that are not just serious but introspective and surprising and hypnotic and what you've done is just...silly.


Jan. 16th, 2004 09:43 am (UTC)
Bah. Your piece was great. The world needs great comedy more than great art.

I always feel like a talentless hack when confronted with workshops-- it takes about 10 minutes of people actually critiquing what I consider to already be good for me to jolt out of it.

BTW: I'm not sending Perfume to Glimmer Train, but I'm grateful for the workshopping, cause it gives me directions to go with it and make it something more than an O. Henry piece.
Jan. 16th, 2004 09:48 am (UTC)
I think you're selling yourself short. Everyone was really touched by your piece. Everyone had an opinion about what was going on with the characters (it amused me particularly that I saw the ending as hopeful while everyone else saw it as sad), and everyone had really good suggestions.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? Or is it "no pain, no gain"? Or is it "no brain, no pain"? Or is it that I'm smoking crack before lunch again?
Jan. 16th, 2004 09:57 am (UTC)
I find the ending to be deliberately ambiguous, yet somehow satisfying. As the author, I don't know if there's a happy ending there or not. Love certainly could conquer all, or this can be a very sad little ending for Judge Quinn and his faithful Elise. It's written to leave the door open for either possibility.

As a reader, I want it to be the happy ending-- he gives her the perfume bottle before she hands him the letter, or he gives it to her despite her letter, or something. And yet, as a human, I know all too seldom does a conflict resolve that way.