A short paragraph from my observation journal for Creative Writing. last year when I started continuing ed classes. Feeling the same as I start again this semester. New direction; new anxieties.

The first Creative Writing class– I am anxious, excited, and encouraged. The students are diverse, which I appreciate very much. Many years ago, coming from a small town, the diversity was awkward. There was an older woman in class who was there for fun, it seemed. She graduated but never pursued a job in the industry. The coursework meant everything to me as a 17-year old girl– my only hope for a future. I didn’t have other interests or skills that seemed marketable. I barely knew what Commercial Art was but didn’t have the courage to consider anything else. Now I am the older woman in class. I’m here on what appears to be a lark. Deep inside, I know writing is my comfort zone. All the other skills I had acquired appear to be unmarketable. I am as nervous as the 17-year old girl stepping into a new world. Much has changed with online orientation and an electronic Black Board for communication. I wanted to be ready for class but started out behind. A bit frustrated to learn weeks ago there was no book designated for the class only to discover last week, there is and it’s not available. Reading is a challenge for me. I wanted to get a jump-start. How can I be a writer if I’m not a strong reader?