Writing Class

I started a writing class at the U through their Lifelong Learning program. The second week we read the first group of would-be authors' writings. It was quite an eye-opener. One woman wrote about coming out as a Lesbian and how it meant she had to leave her church. Another wrote about her mother dying of cancer, only she did it in the first person, as if she were her mother and was telling her daughter that she was quitting chemotherapy. A third wrote about his alcoholic father and how he physically abused his mother, him and his sister. I read those and thought "wow, I'm just here to learn to write a little better fiction. Maybe I'm over my head." Last night the pieces were more fiction and much lighter in tone. This week I have to submit something I've been working on. I just about have it finished, but it is quite different from what others have written. We'll see.