Just a few minutes after I had settled into my seat at my fiction-writing class, our instructor ordered us to quickly jot down 10 things we hate.
So I did. And I was the first one to finish out of 15 people.
I’m not sure what that says about me.
That exercise, and the rest of the class, was a blast. My classmates range from an outdoor lighting electrician (“fear of heights” is not allowed in his line of work) to a livestock farmer.
My first homework assignment is to write 1-3 pages on the “most elegantly dressed person I see on the subway.”