Fruits of Workshops

I had few attempted starts at writing. All shipwrecked on the shores of isolation. a.k.a. writer’s block. So I enrolled my confused mind to a creative writing course. First thing they tell you is to write. Write. Don’t think about what you are writing. Just write. Write down the first thing that comes to your mind. Describe first thing you see. Who you’ve met. Anything. Nonsense. Let it flow. Don’t think about it. Don’t edit. Don’t judge. And it worked. Something started to emerge from that cloud of meaningless words. An idea. Thought. It was addictive. It still is.

I have joined few workshops since then and there is one group I attend rather regularly. Are you not sure about committing yourself? No worries. One day workshops are synonym to fun and are filled to the brim with complete randomness, such as:

Small wall west of waste

hiding fighting trolls of Wales.

Fudge is smudged and judge is dead

Jet is off, the bets are set.


In this particular one we also collectively created a story about a unicorn, a lost lamb arguing with a robin underneath a branch suspended on nothingness and an angel (wearing a suit) stealing apples.

Go and have some fun. Explore. Get inspired. When normal people who happen to be aspiring writers gather in one room, magic ensues. Or madness. Depends how you look at it.

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