In 2015 I signed up for a Creative Writing module at Dundee University. The module was part of a full Master’s degree but at the time, I was working full time and living in a damp, cramped bedsit with a partner, and a new puppy who often insisted on peeing on our bed at one o’clock in the morning (the puppy, not the partner, to be clear). [Aside: if you’re taking on something stressful in your life, don’t get a puppy!].
The course was run by the formidable Professor Kirsty Gunn. Her classes were known as The Washing Machine, and for good reason. At the end, you came out feeling as if you’d been washed, spun, rinsed, put through a wringer and hung out to dry. It wasn’t an easy experience, but valuable lessons were learned. Sessions included writing solidly for two minutes without stopping. If Kirsty saw your hand hesitate over your notebook for one second, she would spot it and shout, ‘Don’t stop! Keep writing!’ When the two minutes were up, she would give you another minute to read and edit your illegible scribbles. Then after that you would read what you’d written out to the entire class, who would critique your ‘work’. For someone with crippling shyness, who likes time to think before writing or saying anything, this wasn’t a comfortable experience. But despite this, I managed to get through with an A grade. The other brave souls in my class went on to complete the entire Master’s degree.
Another part of the course was a one-to-one with Kirsty, where she would give us feedback on a piece of writing we were currently working on. I submitted the first few pages of my novel, The Glens of Carnegie. I’d been working on it for about two decades but was stuck at the awkward 45,000-words stage. I was determined to finish it and anxious to hear the opinion of an established author. On the plus side, she liked the title and felt the story had potential. She also told me, however, that it was full of dreadful clichés and that the female characters were weak. Encouraged by the fact that she didn’t actually take it and rip it up into small pieces in front of me, I decided to persevere.
For further writing practice we were given the privilege of reviewing the 2015 Fine Art Degree Show at Duncan of Jordanstone College of Art & Design, a faculty of Dundee University. This was especially poignant for me because exactly 30 years earlier, I had graduated from that very same school with a BA Honours degree in Fine Art.
To write the reviews, we were given special preview access on the evening before the exhibition was opened to the public. I took with me my partner, who’s a talented photographer, as well as my reporter’s notebook and plenty of pens. As we moved from studio to studio, wearing our beige raincoats, our identification lanyards hanging around our necks, we were often mistaken for the local Press. Some students stood proudly beside their work and were happy to answer questions, as I scribbled self-consciously in my ring-bound pad. The reviews were edited and posted on DURA – Dundee University Review of the Arts magazine. You can read the reviews here.
All this happened almost a decade ago. The puppy is now nine but has thankfully grown out of peeing on the bed. Though senior in doggie terms, he’s still full of life and boundless energy and has given us many a sleepless night. And I finally finished The Glens of Carnegie and self-published it on Amazon last year.
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