And they're turning for home...

Well, week 5 is here. To be honest, I don't remember much of week 4. The worst part was getting to know Connie, starting to really like her and then being yanked out of Clarion by "real life." Technically I only missed four days, but it feels like a month the way things move around here. I'm just getting back up to speed, though I was back in the house on Thursday afternoon. I've been doing lots of reading -- at least trying to read the stories from my classmates, if not crit them all (a Herculean effort at this point)
I'm so grateful to the support and love from this class, not only did they let me go when I needed, but there were lots of open arms waiting when I came back. Connie was also incredible -- so kind and generous. I scraped turning in a story this week but she still gave me a conference and the opportunity to turn in something to her at a later date to make up for this. I feel so lucky to be here, in spite of everything. I'm doing my best to earn the privilege and catch up to the group.
How am I doing? It sucked to loose Grandpa Silvera at this particular time and space and the last few days have been interesting to say the least. When I came back I decided it was no good coming back if I was useless for crits and writing. I'm pushing through on sheer willpower and stubborness at this point. Most of the weekend it was all I could do to read the stories, crit the ones I still had time for and remember to breathe.
I didn't have the energy to make the party Friday night or Saturday's get away at the lake, though I heard both were incredible. I find myself needing a lot more time away from the house, and space from everyone. I'm trying to respect that need, and still be part of the group. After all, I totally adore the fact that I have the opportunity to spend time among a group of incredible folks. So I'm back. Aside from throwing a mini tizzy fit this morning over the lack of paperclips on some people's crits (don't ask me where the HELL that came from) and some poorly timed jokes I think I'll live.
Gordon is pretty cool. He has a good sense of humor and a great sense of story.
Although he hasn't yet taken an ax to anyone's story and left them armless and bleeding at the crit table or clubbed any baby seals before breakfast, there is a suspicious air of fear tinged awe in the group now. Might be due to the fact that he's one of the people we're all going to be submitting stories to (or are already currently submitting to) when we get back in the Real World. Might also be due to the fact that this is week 5 and we are tired and running on steam. Thankfully, Gordon seems to get this and so far, no one has been mauled beyond recognition. One of us even made the "potential" pile based on today's crit. Very cool. It is however, only Monday. I personally am terrified of the editorial "red line" of death (the point at which my story will receive said axe) but I'm here to fail, remember.
I will fail to succeed, I will fail to succeed. (Lather, Rinse, Repeat)
I have decided to throw the last shred of caution to the wind and attempt the utterly ridiculous: High-ish Fantasy with swords but no fighting and off stage magic. Hehehe...Am I feeling suicidal, you ask? Should somebody put me on a watch of some kind? Nah. I guess I'm just feeling like I have nothing left to lose.
Plus after last week's events my "designer pets" story just feels trite and unsatisfying. Perhaps I'll go back to it at some point, but for now I need something a bit weightier -- if only in my own head. Working title, "The Horseboy" I started to hear this character talking, I got the first line(s) tinkered around with an opening and the rest just came along. Going well. I am keeping an eye on the length. This is definitely a short story. My worst fear is that I will get self-indulgent with the horse stuff and bore everyone to tears. Its not really about the horses....I swear. This alone may illicit the strike of the red pen. Ah, hell, nothing an editor can say to me can be worse than being told my grandpa is dead. (I'm only half joking)
Plus, I am saving up my tears and the last loop of the emocoaster for saying goodbye to CW 05 next week. I don't care what anyone says, the time ALWAYS rushes by and you're left wondering how six weeks simultaneously feel like six years and six amazing minutes all at once.

My advice:

1. Take that respect your fellows and teachers seriously -- even if it means you have to be sure to take time away from them so you can appreciate them better.
2. Never miss a chance to chat in the living room or the kitchen, or get a midnight snack with others who have a story due the next morning.
3. Take time for Self - Do something that makes you feel good. Get some time away from the house. Anything.
4. Laugh as often as possible. Laugh hard. Read The Viking or Eye of Argon or whatever it takes. Read it outloud to each other. Laugh until your stomach aches and the person next to you can't breathe. Giggle.Chortle. Snicker. Guffaw.
   
5. Make a group booklist. Find out what everybody reads. Start somewhere. You'll never finish. That's okay too.
6. Take a hug when you can get it. You might forget how good it feels to have someone's arms around you -- it can happen. Trust me.
   
7. SLEEP. Yes. I can tell you having done the 24 hour streches and greater that yes, you may be able to write and "get stuff done" on that kind of crazy schedule, but it will begin to wear on you, and after a while you'll come to realize that if staying up till three in the morning means you get your story done, but you have to get up at 6 and rewrite half of it cause its nonsense gibberish, you will wish you had gone to sleep at midnight and just crammed in the morning on a decent amount of sleep.
   

Okay, that's enough esoteric bullshit from me for one night. There's a paper ball fight going on in the living room right now. I can hear the shrieking laughter through my headphones. I'm preparing ammo. Wish me luck.