A Scary Dream- My Writer’s
Workshop
By Reshana Britton
Stepping into the day’s lesson of
writing was a bit exciting yet I felt the urge like I was trying to be an
author. This writer's workshop felt like entering another world, a world both
comforting and strangely unsettling. The room buzzed with creative energy,
pencils scratching against paper, and the hushed murmur of shared stories. But
within this haven of artistic expression, a scary dream took root, shaping my
experience in ways I never anticipated. This is my attempt to unravel it.
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The Setting: A Classroom
Bathed in Moonlight |
Imagine a cozy classroom, not
unlike any other rows of wooden and
metal desks, walls that were bare as my back at birth not even an inspiring
note or quotes, nor the comforting scent
of old books. But this classroom was different. As I chose my topic for writing
I had to imagine that this room existed under the perpetual glow of a moonlit
night, casting long, dancing shadows that played tricks on the eyes. Whispering
trees surrounded the building, their branches tapping against the windows like
skeletal fingers, adding to the unsettling atmosphere. It felt like we were
learning and sharing our inner most thoughts in a space between worlds.
|
·
Pencils ·
Notebooks ·
Coffee stains ·
Dog-eared paperbacks |
I had
to imagine those things to help craft my story. These were the mundane
objects that formed the foundations of our daily exercises. Yet, even in
their simplicity, they carried a sense of unease. Was that a shadow moving
behind the pencils? Did the notebook pages whisper secrets when I wasn't
looking? My mind was obviously playing tricks on me. |
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The Dream: A Metaphor for
Vulnerability |
|
I began crafting my story,I
ensure that I had a strong beginning that goes like this; One night, a
particularly vivid dream haunted my sleep. I imagined my self standing infront
the class reading aloud reciting a story
I had poured my heart and soul into, when the audience began to transform. As
we were timed 40 minutes to craft our story at the end our peers voluntarily
read their stories as I sit in watchfully paying attention, I noticed that the
faces of my peers twisted into grotesque masks, their eyes gleaming with
malevolent amusement. Their laughter echoed through the walls, mocking my peers every word. Then I tried to relate what
my peers were reading to what I wrote, it was then the dream ended with me fleeing into the
darkness, the sound of their laughter chasing me into the void.
At first, I dismissed the dream
as a product of pre-workshop jitters. But as the minutes passed, it became
clear that it was more than just a random nightmare. It was a manifestation of
my deepest fears about sharing my work with others the fear of judgment, the
fear of rejection, the fear of exposing my vulnerabilities.
It was a representation of the
high stakes nature of art; the risk of being misunderstood and rejected is
always there.Also what this exercise did was demonstarte how as a teacher I can
make use of the writers workshop
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Overcoming the Fear:
Finding Strength in Community |
Despite the initial fear, the
writer's workshop proved to be an invaluable experience. I discovered that
there is a supportive community of fellow writers who understood the challenges
and rewards of the creative process. Sharing their work, receiving constructive
feedback, and offering encouragement to others helped me confront my fears and
embrace my vulnerabilities.
I realised that the 'scary dream'
was not a prophecy of doom, but a symbol of growth. It was a reminder that
taking risks is essential for artistic development, and that even in the face
of adversity, there is always strength to be found in community.
The spooky elements faded as the
workshop progressed. The moonlight felt less eerie, the shadows less menacing,
the trees more welcoming. I came to see the workshop as a journey into
self-discovery an exploration of my
creative potential. Although scary, the dream ultimately led to a greater
understanding of myself and the power of storytelling.
|
Final Thoughts |
The writer's workshop wasn't just
about crafting stories; it was about facing my deepest fears and finding
strength in community. It's about the vulnerability of sharing our truest
selves, and the beauty that arises from doing so. This was a lesson that really
cemented the abstract concepts of the writers workshop for me.
Reshana, your piece drew me into a world that felt both mysterious and meaningful. The way you described the classroom bathed in moonlight made the setting come alive with quiet tension. I could almost hear the branches tapping against the window as you wrote.
ReplyDeleteYour dream felt like a mirror of every writer’s fear, that moment when our words are exposed and we wait to see how they will be received. I admired how you turned that fear into understanding, showing that growth often begins in discomfort.
The ending filled me with hope. The way you transformed the eerie scene into a place of connection and discovery was powerful. You reminded me that courage in writing comes from community and that every scary moment can lead to strength.
Your reflection was haunting yet uplifting, and it beautifully captured the heart of the writing process. Niola Patrice!
Thank you so much, Niola. Your words helped me see my own piece from another angle. Sometimes we write, and we know what we felt while writing but it’s only through another reader’s response that we truly understand the emotional impact of our work. I appreciate how you captured the shift from fear to strength, because that was the heart of my message: vulnerability can become a doorway rather than a barrier.
ReplyDeleteThis writer’s workshop made me realize that sometimes the “scary parts” of writing are simply the moments when we are closest to transformation. When we share our writing, we are not just presenting words we are presenting pieces of ourselves. And it is through supportive communities, like this one, that we learn to write with courage.
Thank you for reading deeply and responding with such empathy.
Reshana, your reflection on the writer’s workshop moved me deeply. The way you layered metaphor and mood—the moonlit classroom, the whispering trees, the eerie transformation of peers—was haunting and beautiful. It felt like you were not just describing a dream, but inviting us into the emotional landscape of what it means to be vulnerable as a writer. That takes courage.
ReplyDeleteAnique
What stayed with me most was your shift from fear to growth. You captured something I think all of us—especially our students—grapple with: the tension between wanting to be seen and fearing what that visibility might cost. Your piece reminded me that discomfort is often the doorway to transformation, and that community can be the safety net that makes risk possible.
I also really appreciated how you connected this experience to your teaching. It is clear you are thinking not just about your own growth, but about how to create spaces where students can explore their voices with honesty and bravery. That is the kind of teaching that changes lives.
I would love to hear more about how this experience is shaping your classroom routines and how your students are responding. Thank you for sharing with us.