Stay on the Dance Floor

I have been teaching Creative Writing at my high school this year. It's the first time the class has been offered in nearly a decade. I have awesome, dedicated, creative kids. It's been an amazing experience. 

And I've been scared out of my mind. 

What if I screw this up? What if I look like an idiot? What sort of math teacher teaches Creative Writing? What if a critique crushes someone's soul and they never write again? What if I have the writer of the next great American novel in my class and she sees how pitiful my writing is? 

It all boils down to: What if I'm not good enough?

Of course, I deal with that often enough in writing itself. Maybe these harpies sound familiar to you: 

What if I write the best I can, put everything I have on the page and it isn't good enough? 

Or, worse yet…

What if I write something brilliant, get that book published, and never reach that level of brilliance again? 

These fears slice! They dice. But wait, there's more! They also include revisions, for no extra charge.

What if I had just enough inspiration to write the first draft, but I can't carry it home? What if I take the manuscript in a horribly wrong direction? What if I douse whatever fire lived in that first draft?

You get the idea. 

Interestingly enough, the math teacher in me knows how to answer this. I teach a subject that freaks students out. For some of my kids a good grade, even a passing grade, seems unattainable. 

I tell those students one thing:  Stick with me. Stay on the dance floor. I can work with you. I will help. I will explain rational polynomials seven ways from sundown. Just don't give up. Do the homework. Attempt every test problem whether you think you can do it or not. Don't beat yourself up if you make a mistake. If you make lots of mistakes. 

This is what I tell myself when I wonder if I can teach Creative Writing. When I'm trying to revise in the middle of a workweek. When I am afraid I don't have what it takes. 

Stay on the dance floor. Don't give up. 

I find folks who excel at writing-craft, and I learn everything I can from them. I am a member of two awesome critique groups who expect me to contribute and who provide wonderful feedback. I was part of the Nevada SCBWI Mentor Program (where I met the Turbo Monkeys).  I am currently in a Highlights workshop with Patti Gauch. I do my homework. 

Sometimes, though, staying on the dance floor is all about tenacity, that dig-in-your-heels refusal to give up. It isn't pretty. It sure isn't easy. It can be as basic as admitting today's work was heinous, but tomorrow's work will be better– and that I will write tomorrow. It's being gentle enough with my own heart that I don't berate myself for pages that aren't as good as I want them to be.

Of all the students I've taught, the ones I remember most were the ones who didn't like math. The ones who didn't get it right the first time. Who got a C on a test they studied for and still dug in the next day. In math, that tenacity can be the difference between passing and failing. 

In writing … who knows? Let's find out. 



Photo: By Gordon Joly (Flickr: Paradise Gardens) [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons