I've been trying, fruitlessly, to bring my closetted love of writing into my everyday life. That's why instead of writing an essay on All Quiet on the Western Front in English, I opted to write a short story that ties in with the novel. I labored over that thing for two weeks, stopped, and rewrote it again. I ended up turning in something that, in my opinion, was horrible, full of plot holes, and riddled with typos.
Today we had writing conferences, where my teacher called us out privately to discuss our writing. And though he usually loved my essays, I was extremely worried about my story. It was the first time anything creative I'd written had been out of the house.
When it was my turn, I said, "So how horrible is it?"
"What are you talking about? I loved it!"
Turns out, it wasn't as bad as I thought. There were a few typos, and he'd edited out a few punctuation mistakes, but other than that... I got a perfect paper.
Huh, I was walking on clouds the rest of the day.
Separate names with a comma.