I was flustered. After about an hour of looking for the Miguel Contreras Learning Center in my mom’s outdated and torn up Thomas Guide (if you don’t know what that is, you probably have a GPS), my mind was somewhere else as I walked into the workshop and to the registration table. Not for long.
It was my first WriteGirl workshop and I had no idea what to expect. I was blown away. There were teen girls everywhere, busily scribbling in their journals or chatting away. Everybody was friendly and smiling. There were none of the cold, daunting stares I had envisioned. After everyone took their seats, two volunteers began reading from a script. It was a scene from 500 Days of Summer.
After a rousing set of hysterical and heartfelt performances, my mentor and I browsed the blown-up pictures of bedrooms plastered on the walls. We giggled at the bedroom with a pool in it and marveled at some of the others before eventually choosing one of the bedrooms to base our characters on.
I had never realized what a powerful inspiration real people can be in the stories we write. I loved having time to think through the nuances of characters before actually writing about them, and understanding exactly what they would do in every situation I could throw at them — and trust me, I threw everything at them.
After lunch we talked with screenwriters and playwrights about our own scenes and their careers. I was encouraged to learn you can actually make a living as a writer. Then we went to the theater for the grand finale. Several of the scenes written that day were performed and I was absolutely delighted at some and positively sobbing at others. Girls my age had done that. It was my first day and I understood: you really shouldn’t underestimate the power of a girl and her pen, myself included.
