i didn’t listen much while they were talking about Charles D’Ambrosio’s beautiful story, “The Point”. i was much too busy listening to my heart pound and my palms sweat. i always get a little nervous when my story is up for workshopping in class. i’m not sure which is more nerve-wracking, when i have to read part of my story out loud or when my classmates get to tell me in exacting detail what they think.

of course my nervousness grew, because i had to go second. we workshopped jen’s story first. at least by that time, i could put aside my nervousness and actually contribute.

then of course there was a break. and at least then i got to talk to FFJ and she took my mind off the nerves.

but then i was up.

i did my best not to speed through the reading at breakneck speed. it was only a paragraph and i think i might have controlled the shake in my voice. i read my piece of the story and then looked up, smiling wanly at FFJ, who was sitting across the room.

then joan started. she’s a 60something woman who sits quietly in the corner.

“i read this story at 5 a.m. thursday [the day after class] morning, and it made me cry,” she said.
“i’m sorry!” i said. “you should sleep in and read it later.”
“no, it was just so good. it was really good.”

and i blushed.

“the characters just come right off the page,” hilary, with the dark curly hair, cool glasses, and wristband tattoo said. “it’s subtle but it’s so wonderful.”

i blushed a little more.

then they discussed at great length my characters and what they thought the story was. some of it was really, really good. Jen asked where the mother was in the piece and i hadn’t even thought about it until she brought it up– that was probably the best criticism i got.

but then vodo started in.

“i didn’t write much on this,” he said, pointing down at my story. “the prose is sparkling. the scene where the sisters are fighting, is just so wrong and so weird and so the way it happens in real life.”

i lost all my hearing after that, my ear drums melting at the heat from my burning, red cheeks.

“i’m totally blushing,” i said to Smel as i ducked my head into my shoulder. FFJ can probably quote the whole soliloquy. she’s good like that.

and today, nearly 12 hours later, i just smile smugly, because i feel like such a vindicated writer. yay me!