Update 3 - Writing Class

So Pleather finally sent me her story which she had requested I look over. And I did. And I gave it some excellent comments and things to work on. She was very appreciative of the time I put into it and the insights I gave her.

That night, however, was our workshop on our "free verse" poems.... essentially... poems with no rhyme or meter. Our new set gang of workshoppers gathered round to look at the poems (Sarah the pregnant girl, Chemmy the hard to understand guy, Will the novelist, Pleather and I). I had written two - one about Miriam's grandmother who has Alzheimers - the other based on my THE LIGHTS story (from 8th grade, later turned into college short film). We sort of tag-teamed in our comments on people's poems and then transitioned into someone else's. Pleather's was probably the best poem in the group... it was about masks that people wear... but there were references that I just didn't get to mythological creatures, etc. (Of course Will the novelist understood it... because he's Will the novelist.) The group talked about Pleather's poem second to last and yadda yadda its good yadda yadda. And then Pleather said, "I was worried it might be a little too high brow." To which I replied in my usual Erin thinks she's funny way, "It is. I didn't understand it." WHICH really was meant to be funny..... but not even I giggled because it came out so rude sounding.... She looked at me in shocked horror. My face remained defiant. She said, transitioning in, "Well I didn't really get yours." And then the other group members told me how they didn't get mine.... they didn't understand the narrative of the narrative poem.

Remember that scene in the movie BIG when John Heard is in the toy meeting and he's describing the buildings that turn into robots and Tom Hanks raises his hand and says, "I don't get it." And John Heard says, "Well, what's there not to get? They start out as skyscrapers and they turn into robots." .... then Tom Hanks proceeds to win over the boss's heart by telling the gathered meeting that skyscrapers that turned into robots were not any fun... why not make robots that turn into bugs..... then later John Heard bitches to Elizabeth Perkins about Tom whining in a mock voice, "I don't get it! I don't get it!"...

I was John Heard.

Since that night Pleather has sat on the opposite side of the room. I guess I'm no longer her bitch.

BUT .... in epilogue.... Monday night the teacher returned our iambic pentameter poems and announced to the class, "With the exception of Erin, none of you quite got it."