English majors read a lot of books. They read constantly, and when they can’t read, they pretend like they can read constantly as well. I was an English major with a focus in Creative Writing and I had to read a lot: between 3-4 books a week. All of this reading, and then all of the writing, were together supposed to earn me a degree and enable me to become a better writer.
I have known for many years that I am not what you would call a fiction writer. I write poems, songs, and of course blogs. I have written many of these over the years. When I was choosing classes for one of my last semesters, I decided to take a fiction writing class, in order to boost my fiction writing skills. For it is often said, that you can master other aspects of writing in order to be able to become proficient in your own style.
Yet, I was in for a “rude awakening” as they say. My fiction teacher was an elderly woman, who I shall refer to as Ms. Holland. She looked like the hippy version of Professor Trelawney from the Harry Potter franchise. Like Professor Trelawney, she was “odd.” I only wish she was as nice.
One day, I went to class, and as everyone sat down, Ms. Holland gave us all graded copies of our first stories of the semester. I had written many creative writing pieces, getting good grades when I went to my community college. That was why I was so shocked when I looked down to see a huge red F on the page, with the following comment that said…
“Your writing is not up to the level of this class.”
This was pretty much basically saying that I, as a writer, was stupid and did not deserve to be there. I had received F grades on tests and papers before but never with comments like that. I also was frustrated because I had other classes, was reading constantly, and doing other papers all the time. When I went to try to get help from the Student Disability Center, they said there was nothing they could do regarding her feedback.
In spite of her comments, I continued to press on in class. I did not use the f-word in every sentence like everyone else in the class, but I did my best to end up with a passing grade at the end of the semester.
I could have let her comments affect me more than they did. Yet, I had someone in that season who saw things differently.
Marles Humphrey was the aunt of a friend of mine named Matt, and for about the last year of college, we became very close. I often would go out and eat with her, Matt, and Marles’ husband Jim. We would go to the movies and go to her house. We went to church, watched the Super Bowl. She was an excellent chef, and going to her house was always a welcome escape from getting away from campus at Colorado State.
She did something though, that the Trelawney look-alike professor of mine did not. She LIKED my writing, and in the early days of my blog, she read my posts all the time. Whenever she commented on my work, I would gladly listen.
“You know, Jacob,” she said once, “I used to work at the Chicago Tribune. I even covered a major story that made the front page. As a fellow writer, I want you to know you are talented.”
Many people prayed for me during my time in college. I was on lots of pills and saw doctors and counselors regularly. Yet, aside from God, it was people like Mrs. Marles that helped me have perspective. She was and is a prime example of someone whose opinion you should listen to.
Whenever I would tell people about Ms. Holland, I would say, “Besides, people actually READ what Mrs. Marles wrote. No one ever is going to read anything from Ms. Holland.”
As students go back to school next month, it’s going to be different and not fun for many. Yet, it is my hope that in this divided pandemic state we find ourselves in, that everyone who is not a student would offer words of life, of hope, and of encouragement to all the kids and young adults out there. Now, more than ever, they are going to need it.
Until Next Time,
Jacob McGowen
The Adventures of A Warrior 