This page is a permanent link to the reply below and its nested replies. See all post replies »
greenmountaingal · 80-89, F
I entered a statewide writing contest for college students in my sophomore year at a state university. There was a run-off between me and one other student.
We sat in a cold basement room for two hours as we wrote impromptu essays in response to a question given to us. The other student wore starched and ironed clothes, had brought two pens and three sharpened pencils, smiled, exuded self-confidence and wrote calmly and steadilyfor most of the entire two hours. I wore an old torn sweatshirt, jeans and a faded tee shirt, had one leaky pen and spent most of the two hours sweating as I took notes, scribbled half formed sentences into a rough draft and paused endlessly, it seemed, trying to think of what to write next. When it was over, she handed in about sixteen pages and I handed in three.
Sure I'd lost the contest, I went home to let my friends console me with beer and pot. There was a knock on the door and I answered it, shocked to receive a telegram saying I'd won! And there was a check waiting for me for $2500 at the university. I joyfully ran back there, a distance of three miles, to claim my check, all the while remembering something my writer father used to say:
"The writer sweats so the reader doesn't have to."
We sat in a cold basement room for two hours as we wrote impromptu essays in response to a question given to us. The other student wore starched and ironed clothes, had brought two pens and three sharpened pencils, smiled, exuded self-confidence and wrote calmly and steadilyfor most of the entire two hours. I wore an old torn sweatshirt, jeans and a faded tee shirt, had one leaky pen and spent most of the two hours sweating as I took notes, scribbled half formed sentences into a rough draft and paused endlessly, it seemed, trying to think of what to write next. When it was over, she handed in about sixteen pages and I handed in three.
Sure I'd lost the contest, I went home to let my friends console me with beer and pot. There was a knock on the door and I answered it, shocked to receive a telegram saying I'd won! And there was a check waiting for me for $2500 at the university. I joyfully ran back there, a distance of three miles, to claim my check, all the while remembering something my writer father used to say:
"The writer sweats so the reader doesn't have to."