Today is the first day of a three-week creative writing class that I'll be teaching.
I was going to post a piece about that wonderful magic that happens when the instructor learns new tricks or gets new ideas from her students; how a writing workshop raises the bar for everyone present because each writer wants to be as good as that last best story that received all the praise. Instead I'll just say that I'm so nervous about teaching I feel sick. I didn't sleep at all last night. I dreamed and re-dreamed that I was teaching students that I haven't yet met. In the dream, I always forgot something, a handout, or I lost my train of thought and the students were looking at me like I'm crazy. Maybe I am crazy.
Yes, teaching is a wonderful thing but I'll have to write about that when I get over my nausea.
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