Take a Class

I just rolled in at 11pm from my new Wednesday night ritual: Travel Writing with Cullen Thomas.

Last January, I picked up Memoir at Gotham Writer’s Workshop. It lent a purpose to my Saturday afternoons—not to mention a great community of writers I still keep in touch with and a boatload of writing that seemed to pour out of my head the moment my teacher mandated an assignment. The structure of organized learning less than a year out of college warmed me like steaming chicken soup in flu season.

When the offer came through to spend another winter semester with Gotham’s finest, I jumped at the chance.

Rather than Saturday afternoons, I thought I’d give the weeknight circuit a whirl. This leaves me Saturday afternoons to actually write; or Saturdays to gather my brain after its gradual spilling out Monday through Friday and then write on Sundays.

After blogging from Argentina, I began to think about travel writing. How amazing would it be to get to travel and write at the same time? Those people at Travel & Leisure got it right. But I definitely need some honing. After all,ruthieinargentina.blogspot.com is a far cry from Fodor’s.

My class meets once a week for three hours, during which Cullen—who reminds me of the grown-up version of my high school boyfriend—guides my class of nine women through the basics of Travel Writing. What types of travel writing exist? What are the basic structural ingredients of a travel piece? Travel memoir or destination piece? Use more sensory detail. Use less first person.

We read the masterful work of Bruce Chatwin and the short pieces of the Times travel writers. We study their style. We critique them. We bring in our homework. We critique each other.

Each week we have an assignment. On top of that, twice in my ten-week course I will write longform pieces of 5-12 pages to be ripped apart—and hopefully also complimented—by my classmates. I am on deadline.

And yet, the pressure is just enough to yield quality work without completely stressing me out. One class at a time is manageable in an adult life.

Learning after college is a must-do, a gift if you make time to bestow it upon yourself. I remember why I loved school. The excitement of knowledge. The taste of progress. Each week, I walk away with a new reading list of at least five authors to which Cullen has referred during our session, for my own exploration. Each week, I learn at least one thing about the craft of composition that renders me a better writer.

Meanwhile, little do I realize I’m also making friends. Because in the process of learning, we inevitably blunder. And as you make mistakes, and pick up your pen again, your classmates help you up. My classmates are just as nervous about criticism as I am. Yet we know it is the only way to improve. So we lean on each other. We make friends. We listen to each other’s stories—which at the very least are entertaining in a Travel Writing seminar.

Pick your passion. Find a class. Make time for the interest that makes you happy. Meet friends who share your zeal. New York bursts with a schedule of classes for anything you can imagine:pottery, painting, dance, yoga, business, social media, design, computers, rock-climbing, archery,skating, or a language (NOTE: I have not personally tried all of these). Enrolling in a class doesn't mean you have to break the bank, either.

A class might be just the thing to grant your life Purpose and light a fire under your...butt.