A Field Guide to Creative Writing Classes (Part Four & Conclusion of a Series)
Some Notes on the Various Types You Will Find in the Literary Classroom
Continued from Part Three...
WARNING: This series of articles may offend women, men, minorities, non-minorities, animal-rights people, SF fans, fantasy fans, horror fans, romance fans, poets, sociopaths, sociopathic poets, Moms, Dads, Christians, non-Christians, Narcotics Anonymous people, piscetarians, vegetarians, vegans, and well, pretty much anyone who isn’t me.
So in any writer’s group or creative writing class in which you participate, you may be so lucky as to run into…
Last but not least are my three very, very favorites (especially since they all seem to want to go for coffee after class with me) are…
The “I Hope the Chicks in This Class Are Turned On By My Erotic Poetry” Guy!
You shall know him by the Ovid, Baudelaire, and Byron collections that he ostentatiously brandishes in class. Erotic Poetry Guy heard somewhere that artsy chicks are easy, and nobody on AdultFriendFinder has emailed him back in awhile. So he pours his heart into a few pieces of pornographic blank verse and reads them aloud in class (scandalizing Angry PC Person, Uber-Mom and Ball-Crusher, naturally.) Hopefully he’ll hook up with the Romance Novelist Wannabe early on in the quarter, because then nobody’ll hear from either one of them again until final projects are due.
Then there's...
The Needy Single Dad!
Like the Ball-Crusher, the Needy Single Dad is also a recent refugee of an acrimonious divorce, only instead of being pissed off, he’s saaaaaaaaaad. He’s instantly recognizable by the Nick Hornby novels in his bag and the kicked-puppy-dog look on his face. Like the Uber-Mom, he’s flashing baby pictures right after “Hello,” only instead of trying to establish his moral perfection like her, he’s more hoping it’ll help him pick up chicks. His writing, invariably starring a brave single father trying to hold back his tears as he picks up his child on the weekends from his harpyish ex-wife and waits for His One True Love to come along and make him happy again... (could that woman be, maybe, in his creative writing class?) is often as masochistic as the Ball-Crusher’s is sadistic. If you are a reasonably attractive and mentally stable single woman in the same class as this guy, do NOT let him engage you in any kind of conversation after class, because he’ll be as hard to get rid of as the aforementioned kicked puppy dog.
Last but not least, we’ve got…
The Reformed Substance-Abuser Guy!
He’s usually a guy, but very occasionally he can be a woman. He invariably has really long, stringy, unkempt hair, and wears the same dirty jeans and worn-out Birkenstocks to every class session, and probably has long, neglected, terrifying toenails. He will tell everyone his life story during the first class session, temporarily transforming the class into a Narcotics Anonymous meeting to which everybody has brought unpublished manuscripts. And his written work is just more of the same, kind of like Jerry Stahl’s Permanent Midnight, only not anywhere near as well-done. This guy is also REALLY chatty and gregarious and talkative, and will try to turn every class into his own personal confessional encounter-group session (and don’t get him started on Hunter S. Thompson unless you want to burn even more class time.) Woe unto you if this guy is some kind of failed musician as well, because then he’ll be even MORE self-absorbed, and he’ll be even worse if he used to live on a boat or in Las Vegas. And the absolute worst part is, this guy is as horny as his neglected toenails, and every woman in the class is his potential groupie. Never, EVER talk to this guy one-on-one after class, even if you make a lot of careful mention of your longtime lesbian relationship or your wonderful husband and sixteen kids waiting at home. Nah, just make a quick break for your car the second the prof dismisses you. Trust me on this one.
Even more fun is when you get mixes of the types, like the Uber-Mom Hagiographer, the Born-Again Ball-Crusher, the Angry PC Avant-Gardist, and the Really Prolific Erotic-Poetry Hack. (And beware of Really Prolific Schlocky Fantasy Chick, I’m telling yah.)
Now don’t blame me if you see yourself in any of the above types – I told you these articles were rude...!!!
About the Creator
Deborah Moran
Deborah Moran has been a creative writer since she completed her first short story at the age of six. Her interests include literature, journalism, art history, combat sports, cooking, gardening, horses and dogs. She lives in California.
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