In Writing Class Today...

So in my writing class I usually end up sitting next to Frank. Frank is at least a foot taller and broader than me; he is very polite and sociable. Frank has written tons, has had a multitude of life experiences (mostly bad, by the sound of it), has either had some stuff published or is close to publishing, and is involved with a very active writing group. When he speaks, he comes across as very knowledgeable, self-assured, self-confident, opinionated (in a good way)

To be frank, Frank intimidates the hell out of me.

Today, our writing exercise was to write about how our life intersected with history. I couldn't immediately think of any grand historical event I intersected with (of course, I thought of many, several hours later), so I started to write about the time the students at Central staged a walk-out. I didn't get very far during the 15 minutes of writing time, but I got a good start and enough to make me want to continue the story at a later time.

When the instructor asked for volunteers to read, I surprised myself and said I would. I read what I had written. Now, at this time the instructor doesn't want us to give any real feedback. We just thank the reader and maybe comment on the style or technique they used ("Oh, you used present tense to tell a flashback. How nice.")

Frank loved my story. He really wanted to know what happened next (I mentioned it actually turned out rather anti-climatically) and really encouraged me to finish the story. He thought I told what I had written so far very well.

Small glow inside me the rest of the afternoon. Cool. Very nice to get a compliment like that from someone 'outside'.