The Metaphoric Vehicle Makes All Stops

Tonight was the final Voice in Modern Fiction class. Well, it was the optional additional week. More than half of us didn't bother to show, but for those of us who did, it was rewarding. Lovely red wine, eggnog & bourbon, a delectable cheese with a very nutty taste that complimented the wine nicely.

My professor commented favourably upon my last iteration of the story I'd been working on over the course of the semester. Reading over his comments on the hard copy once I got home was satisfying, to say the least. I managed to make the narrative engaging, at last. It was challenging--the most vulnerable I've had to be, where my writing is concerned, in a long time. I felt outclassed by the other students, who are all fiction concentration (whereas I'm a poetry concentration)--I likened it to being a boxer whose dominant hand has been taped and wrapped--forced to use the least comfortable "paw" until she's able to do so fluidly and gracefully.

I checked my grade report online today. The instructor has yet to submit, but my poetry professor has weighed in. I got an A. We'll see if I continue on my straight-A-streak.

I'm off classes until January 25th, on which date I will begin my last semester before Thesis. Fall of 2006 here I come.