The Stupid Writer

Every time I go to my comic writing class, I get this same exact feeling. I'm basically the kid at the adult dinner table, getting lost in the baby boomer jokes. My teacher finds everything that I love unfunny.

There is this scene in the movie My Girl, where the main character Vada signs up for a writing class to get closer to her hot teacher. The class is an adult writing class, and they have to read their poems for everyone. Everyone read their adult angst ridden poems, and an eleven year old Vada reads her very poignant poem about how much she likes ice cream.

My teacher has this funny way of work shopping. Although, he welcomes the class to chime in, you are basically reading your work for his judgement. Facing his critiques of our work is like being at the receiving end of a dodge ball game. I usually hold my breath till it's done, and I'm relieved that it's over.

I'm scratching at the inner lining of brain to figure out, what the hell makes this guy laugh? I thought that I was sarcastic, but apparently there is a deeper and smarter sarcasm, that adults find to be funnier

He hates my use of punctuation, and sloppy sentence structure. I kick myself in the ass, because my exposure to literary greatness for the past five years have been celebrity blogs. I always leave that class not feeling well read or up to par. I somehow put together something funny for the class to laugh at, but I assume that is the result of being a gen x'er. We know how to bullshit, and we can put together bullshit very quickly.

One of my classmates, who is also a teacher through the extension program, asked me who my favorite comic writer is. I can't say Micheal K from Dlisted, because I'll look like a moron. I don't mind looking like a moron for my blog readers, but in this very prestigious class I need to be a smartie like everyone else!

I used to love to read. I would stay up all night to finish a book, but in my adult years I have not picked up those kinds of books. I don't finish them and they are not smart enough. It's brought some attention to things I need to work on. I would love to join writing circles and reference this book and that book, and that amazing author and dismiss another author, bla bla bla, I'm smart, I'm smart, I'm smart!

In this process of taking all these classes, I'm figuring out what kind of writer I am. Right now I'm drawn to creative non fiction, and satire is not my forte.

The other night I asked a classmate, "What the hell is a hyperbowl?"

I pounded my head as soon as I got home. What I meant to say was, "What the hell is a hiperbole?"