Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS writer
My wrist is sore. Why the fuck am I not typing on the iPad? Dumb fuck! Everyone else looks cool with their notepads. “Real” writers. Oh god, I have wanker’s elbow from writing and it’s not even lunch time. Oh for fuck sake.
My bladder is bursting but I don’t want to miss anything. Do we get ciggie breaks? How exactly am I going to bring that up?!
I’m excited, and I’m in pain. Maybe it really is wanker’s elbow?
The lady next to me’s handwriting is so neat. She defo doesn’t have wanker’s elbow. Or maybe she’s well-practised? No, don’t think that. Shit. Too late. No, do not look around the room at people you don’t know, writing away, and think about their wanker’s elbow.
Maybe we should rephrase – from now on it’s “Writer’s Elbow.”
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I’m just sitting here listening to this voice. People around are munching on their lunch and chatting about writing, blogging and formatting, which is probably the most bizarre thing I’ve ever witnessed for a start. But there amongst it all is this booming voice.
One that’s clearly trained after many years of keynote speeches and stand-up performance. Used to and adept at commanding a room.
There is the sound of a woman that I openly admire. I am small by comparison and yet I fell a kindred spirit in the seeking of a better world and a wish to do & be something worthwhile in it.
And laugh. The human condition is a many splendid thing. I am uncomfortable here, but she is not. I feel out of my depth. Lowly in a room full of educated, wealthy, creative middle-class women.
I am the antichrist of the room. Loud, brash, lower class. Frightened into silence as a servant in the presence of lords and ladies. Yet I feel at ease and in awe of our host. Holding her own – no, smashing it – amongst this crowd.
I don’t eat arty food. I make a turkey and salami sanga, sneaking out for a smoke while others chatter and nibble. Fish out of water. And yet I am so happy to be here. Anchored by the presence of that booming voice.
Admiration and eagerness do indeed overcome social inertia. A win for the small peeps. Thanks to Catherine.
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