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January 15, 2011 / Angela Sylvia

MFA Day 8

Today, today… what happened today? Oh man, I can hardly remember.

Rachel and I got ourselves thoroughly confused, thinking that the second part of the Feeding Your Muse seminar was at the library again – it wasn’t, something, we didn’t figure out until we arrived, late and panting… to an empty room. We had to drive back to the main campus, and missed half of the seminar. Yikes.

Susan Goodman changed up the seminar, to make up for the snow day, instead going over the material for the other seminar she was supposed to host, Telling Your Story – But How? We looked at ways that people can approach a subject to tell it with a different tone.

I went to one of the graduate seminars I had signed up for at 11:30, The Hero’s Journey in 3-D. The study of the hero’s journey, not just in fantasy literature but in everything, is something that I’ve gone over before, but I never get tired of. It’s a great way to look at your story and characters to see how your own idea follows these archetypes. It’s also good to be aware of the archetypes for when your story starts to become too predictable and boring.

Afternoon was finishing the large group workshops for Elley and Rachel that were missed on Wednesday. After I finalized my plans with Chris Crutcher for what I’ll turn in over the semester; nothing to complicated, just writing and rewriting so I can plow through Speaksong and get it as done as I possibly can before the semester ends.

Graduate readings got clogged in the sludge my brain is turning into, but what I was able to be aware of was really wonderful. Despite sheer exhaustion I hung out at the reception for some time with Rachel, not because I felt like I had to be there but because i just couldn’t stop talking to people. Abby and Jan have been really helpful, and it breaks my heart that they’re fourth semester students, meaning that by next semester they’ll be graduating. They’ve both already offered, or even asked, that I send them more of Speaksong, and I gladly will.

I’m ready to go home now. My writing hand itches and my brain is so full I’m afraid it might spill out. Everything is packed to be thrown in the car in the morning; that way I won’t have to worry, and can just wait for the right time to leave.

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