Life-Long Learning

School in Minnesota is back in session, as of this past week, and sometimes it feels like there’s more freshness to a new school year than a January 1st. I love that the seasons of homework, testing-taking, and stressing over getting A’s are behind me, though, and what I love even more is that there’s still so much learning ahead of me—and that I’m in charge of it.

Right now personal curriculums are a hot topic on my social media feed. This is one of those trends I can’t complain about because how could I? People out there, with their freewill, choosing to develop a skill or deep-dive into a niche subject of study or build up a reading habit? Absolutely. 

When it comes to writing and choosing how I’m developing my craft, the best thing to do, first and foremost, is simply to write. Practice and practice and more practice cannot be beat. You have to do it and you have to do it badly, at least at first, if you’re going to see any kind of growth. That’s not unique to this activity.

Of course, there are numerous craft books to read and get advice—both practical and philosophical—from other authors about what worked for them, routines you could try, different ways to initially plot your story, etc. I’ve read my fair share of this genre, and some of those texts have been really insightful and helpful. You should find a way to include outside voices into your process because, while you’re technically alone with your story, you’re not writing in a void. You’re not the first nor the only person to ever delve into the world of fiction, and, if you don’t have to reinvent the wheel, why should you? So, tap into those craft books and the community groups that provide you with trustworthy feedback and wisdom.

Both these things you’ve probably heard already and seen elsewhere as “Things Every Writer Should Do.” They’re classic and necessary.

But today I’m not talking about my established writing practice or a book I recommend. I’m sharing about a new thing that I’m excited to learn about (hence that stuff at the very beginning where I was briefly musing about school years and fresh starts).

There are actually two things I’m trying to become a student in: flash fiction and playwriting. Not because I’m giving up on the fiction projects I’ve got going but because I’m curious about these avenues of expression. 

Folks who received this month’s newsletter already know about this flash fiction interest, as I’m sharing four prompts each month this autumn for this form. This is a very small story that has no more than 1,500 words. For context, a short story can be up to 10,000 words but is often shorter; a novelette caps out at 19,000, and a novella hits its max at 40,000. Fifteen hundred words is really nothin’, in the grand scheme of things. Fifteen hundred words was my daily word goal last year.

And, within that restriction, a full story is still meant to play out, and it can. Here’s the thing: I’ve never tried this. I am a wordy gal. I spend most of my time with novel-length drafts. That’s what I’m currently working on, what I’m currently querying so revisiting for editing. I have a solid grasp on the short story, but it can still be tricky because it’s condensed.

So, this flash—this little blip—of a tale situation? I’m not even sure how best to begin. I’ve got ideas bouncing around in my head—I did, afterall, put four prompts in my newsletter—but they’re really jumbled right now. So, one piece of my curriculum right now is studying this form, especially by reading well-done examples, and figuring out how I might give it a shot.

The other piece of curriculum has to do with playwriting, as I mentioned. This format has been in and out of my curiosity for a few years now, but I didn’t give it much of my attention because of my prose projects. Because I had (and still do have) novels to write.

Still, I checked out Playwriting: Structure, Character, How and What to Write by Stephen Jeffreys from the library and intend to take notes on it. I’ll probably pick up at least one or two more texts related to this specific format to make sure I’m giving myself a good foundation to work from. I want to try and learn before I do, right?

The idea behind learning both of these forms is to bring a sort of playfulness back to my writing. It’s meant to help me have more options, when I’m warming-up for a writing session or needing a temporary rest from an on-going draft. It’s all still writing, so it’s all still contributing to my growth. I think of it in the same way that I juggle my reading life.

I am one of those people who always has at least two books going, sometimes more. Depending on what the book is, I may need a break from it, but reading is what I like to do. So, I’ll put down that “Classic” for nonfiction or a mystery or historical fiction. That pivot, giving my brain that refresh, is so useful to me.

I have days, when I sit down to write and work on my current manuscript, that I just don’t want to. Or I’m not sure I’ve thought through where exactly the next section is taking the plot. Ideas need to percolate, yet I want to still be writing as much as I can. So, I’ll poke around my Google Drive’s various folders to see which half-started idea sparks my interest or seems to fit my mood. Then I’ll see what I can add, whether that’s a handful of paragraphs or what. 

And I’m excited about learning these new formats because I took plenty of creative writing classes in undergrad but never any that focused on these. The short story and poetry were the focus of my seminars, and they were excellent. I have confidence in those areas.

Isn’t it fun, though, to be a beginner on your terms? Isn’t it invigorating to try something knowing that there are no expectations other than to see what may happen? That’s how I feel about what I’m about to take up. 

That’s what personal curriculums should be about. You recognizing where your curiosity is pointing or finally making intentional time for something you’ve been saying you want to try. We all have rainy day hobbies saved up. We all have mental bookmarks on things we want to get around to when we have the time. 

We could wait forever, though, for the time to be right. So, I’ll take my half an hour every day to practice flash fiction, and you? Well, you can take ten minutes to start learning that language that’s always interested you. You can sit at your window and start working on identifying the birds that visit your yard. You can visit the craft store and get a beginner’s kit. 

The other thing about personal curriculums, especially as an adult, that I find refreshing is that whatever you’re learning isn’t usually something that’s an obvious necessity that must make you a profit or contribute to career advancement. Whatever you’re setting out to do is for you, and there actually is necessity in that, of a quieter sort. 

Because we can move ourselves from day to day, doing the humdrum, functional tasks of life, and lose sight of the fact that our existence is more than doing the dishes, clocking in at work, sending emails, and making sure bills are paid. Your ideas for what to learn and try bring color to all of that. You can look forward to, after work, going home and cooking a new recipe and building up your culinary skills. You can dabble in painting, woodworking, comedy, whatever.

The wonder is being able to tap into that fresh excitement, like a schoolkid, that reminds you learning can be fun, you’ve done new things before, and beginning is a joy. Beginnings are full of possibilities. So, make things possible for yourself and know that it’s never too late to start.

I’ll keep y’all posted on how my foray into flash fiction and playwriting goes, and, if you’re out there trying a new, creative endeavor, I wish you joy and luck!

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Reflections from a Summer Spent Running