A Touch Of Class

So on Monday I headed out to my third attempt at doing an evening class. Don’t get me wrong, my first attempt was pretty successful and I completed that course (in Stand-Up Comedy if you don’t know) but the fact that I had to give up my last one (also in Stand-up Comedy but more advanced) only to be thwarted halfway through by (unknown to me at the time) the fun ride into depression and bodyshock that is Grave’s Disease (more brackets – hyperthyroidism) and have to give it up because although I was “on fire” in class (not in actuality but in my wit and mind) when it came to trying to write and remember my routines, it all went tits up.
Therefore it was with some trepidation that I set out on Monday evening after a hearty bowl of my own homemade Green Split Pea and Potato Soup to the first class in Writing For Stage And Screen at Strathclyde University.
Of course, I hadn’t realised that the new and improved me that has her Diseases Under Control was not the same happy wee bunny who trudged her way to class earlier in the year so having set out in what I thought would be ample time to get there, ended up arriving 40 minutes early. I sat in the foyer and read my book until it was time to go up to class.
I had also not checked where in the building my class would be, forgetting that this part of the university, the Graham Hills Building (named for the physical chemist and former Principal and not the racing car driver and father of Damon, which is Hill, no “s”) is Immense! So whereas I had previously entered from North Portland Street and got the lift up, I should have come in from George Street and not ended up wandering corridors seeking directions from the woman in Law Studies who seemed surprised to see me meandering aimlessly through her department. I eventually found the classroom where the tutor and one other student were trying to work the SmartBoard. I took a seat at the front – it always amazes me how grown adults put into a situation where there are rows of desks and chairs will always gravitate towards the back. However, I’m no shrinking violet and have learned over the years that to sit down the front and volunteer to go first get you brownie points (plus mean you can see and hear and can have a wee sleep while others have a turn).
Other students trickled in and we ended up with 5 women and 7 men (I think – I guesstimated the guys) all keen to learn.
Our tutor told us a wee bit about himself including his work on BAFTA nominated short films, his devising of a TV soap and his current project in adapting a book for the big screen and then outlined the course. We are to be given homework assignments each week and by the end should have if not a draft then the seed of a script for a short film or a one act play.
We did some work on character and characterisation, looking at Georges Simenon (father of Paul from the Clash – not really) taking his cue from the sketchbooks of Leonardo Da Vinci and examining the 3 dimensions of character. We then looked at a short film that our tutor had worked on as an example of characters – a funny wee documentary about men who catch and fly (and dye!) feral pigeons.
I left the class with one of the other women and we had a great wee chat about the class and our expectations (she was in media) and a few laughs while getting lost again and expecting to be wandering the halls until next week, before finding the way out and heading our separate ways.
I got a lot out of it and have been inspired to really develop what I had already started writing by doing my homework – a character biography – on my main character. I’ve just submitted it so we’ll see. Once again I feel inspired and feel like I am really being productive again - can’t wait til next week x