Creative Non-fiction

From out of the blue, Tere emailed me.

She is now a part-time teacher in journalism and was wondering if I had a window in my schedule to meet with her and her students. I pushed and pulled a few of my commitments and found a window!

Frankly, I was more interested in meeting Tere again after all these years. Kindred spirits we were, in the ad agency where we created ads. She, plus a few more writers, and I were pals, more than co-workers. We had something deep in common: love affair with words.

She picked me up on schedule and was I surprised to find her whole class in her van. I imagined a slew of students; unfortunately, not too many kids these days share our passion for the printed page.

It was familiar territory; I usually have the same number of students in each of my classes, too.

"Where are you going?" were Tere's first words when she saw the handcarry-on-wheels I lugged behind me.

"With you!" I replied, explaining that the thing contained my props—my books.

The cafe, which was our venue for the next two and a half hours, was still empty. After ordering our breakfast, the gabfest was on.

We discussed anything and everything about writing: how one's heart should be in each written piece; why a writer should have a unique voice; what a writer should bring into his work not found in others'; who the writer should tap from his many resources; when the writer needs to work (all his waking hours, including sleeping, when necessary); where the writer can work (anywhere, noisy or quiet); and what the writer's rewards are (imaginary or monetary).

In short, when one comes into the altar of writing—be it fiction or non-fiction—his vow of love must be explicit, "For better or for worse."

My audience of six scanned my books as they asked questions, expressed assumptions, and verbalized apprehensions. Palpable was their earnestness in seriously going into writing.

In between the writing seminar/lecture/forum, Tere and I talked shop and tried to catch up on the years we had lost touch. We discovered we had become grandmothers, and traced mutual friends.

My morning turned out to be a double treat: I had not only met Tere again, I also met six new young friends who have now entered my special inner sanctum named "writing pals."

Talking to young, would-be writers, especially those who are into non-fiction, always poses a challenge. I came into the writing field with absolutely no formal training. All I had in the beginning was the unquenchable passion (since birth, I guess) to write.

But then, I think, that is where it all begins. Then grace comes and helps you get cracking.