creative nonfiction

So I’m in my school’s writing club. Not because I volunteered or signed up or anything like that, but because two of my friends run the club and told me to join. I had some choice in the matter, but why say no? But anyway, I was…voluntold.

I do like writing, and I do a lot of it on my own, but I don’t do any fictional writing. I always, always write nonfiction—which makes things kind of difficult when the writing club centers itself on fictional writing, writing narrative stories from prompts, fictional character development in fictional worlds. Because of this, I usually attend writing club every week only to not write, which is kind of counterintuitive. Instead, I talk to my other friends in the club (whose membership is dwindling pretty quickly as the months go by, like all clubs) or study. My two friends in charge of the club always complain about my lack of participation, but frankly I don’t really care. I don’t like writing fiction because it doesn’t come naturally to me, and I’m not going to write and share any fictional writing I do anytime soon.

I’m not sure why I have this attitude about it. I guess I read a lot a nonfiction and I write a lot of it for school anyway, so it’s become my favourite type of writing over time. I always question if whether or not my writing is actually good—I get high marks in school, but everyone knows that that doesn’t necessarily mean what you’re doing is that great. Oh well.

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Victoria

Writes words mostly on the go. Lentils are life.

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