This semester has been quite the experience, to say the least. I can recall several instances when I was attempting to write something in class, only to hear some snippet of conversation I’m not sure I wanted to hear (What was that about boulder sex?) or see some sight I wasn’t all that eager to see (Get rid of the hair, Carr). There was even one event where I looked up to see a ball hurtling towards my face. Of course, the comprehension of the impending impact somehow gave me inspiration for a poem which had absolutely nothing to do with the episode at the moment.

This is not to say that I learned more about my classmates only through classroom digressions. Through our collective work I have discovered that my class has a certain fondness for stories of murder and obsessive fans. I am not entirely certain of what that means. However, it did lead to several very entertaining stories. I also had a number of revelations about the array of writing styles present in this course. Some were vastly different from my own and that did take some getting used to. However, there remains at least one piece from everyone in the class that I utterly adore. And, while some pieces worked for me and other’s simply didn’t, I was always able to find one or more parts in each work that I liked.

This class did not just teach me more about other people. I learned a lot about myself, as well. For instance, I apparently don’t dislike rhyming as much as I thought I did. I wrote several poems which rhymed and turned out well, and I even began to subconsciously try to rhyme poems which weren’t meant to. Also, no matter how easy people claim them to be, I can’t write limericks. I tried twice and failed horribly both times. In addition, fifteen syllables per line is evil! Never again will I try that. Moreover, this course served to develop my writing style.

When I was twelve and started writing for fun, my work was filled with the terribly stereotypical writing conventions of someone about that age. My stories were riddled with horribly unoriginal plots which had so many plot holes they would have eventually collapsed in on themselves had I not had such a short attention span that I tended to forget all about them after the first chapter. I even almost fell victim to the feared Mary Sue, the “perfect” character who is better at everything than everyone else, who is everyone’s love interest or best friend, and who cannot possibly do any wrong. Fortunately, I had enough sense not to create such a flat character often, and when I did start to I usually came up with a plan to change that. As got older I started to drift away from this style and become a bit more unique. About a year ago, I decided that I wanted to completely leave all traces of that practice behind me and make my writing as mature as possible. Thus, I signed up for this course in hopes that it would help me towards my goal. I think it is clear from looking at the progress of my work this semester that it truly has.