2. A Pinch and a...

The sole purpose for me coming all the way to the tiny town of Dunedin was to make a Natural History Documentary. I had visions of lugging a camera up mountain sides and down steep canyons to capture award winning footage that would be screened the world over. However, as I discovered the other day I will be spending, at least some of my time, building a blog to document my journey from documentary dreamer to doer.

Here begins my tale.

It was day one and our task was to reveal to the rest of the class just how bad our creative non-fiction writing skills were (writing being the key to all good docos), by going to the main library, observing the comings and goings and then writing 400 words on the whole experience.

I felt like I was being dragged kicking, screaming and biting my lecturers arm into the deep end. "I don't know anyone in the class yet! Can't we wait just a bit, get to know people, learn more about the art of creative writing before we actually have to do the unthinkable and open ourselves up to scrutiny"! My silent protests went, of course, unheeded and so I wrote. Nothing beats fear as a motivator!

Writing the story was a breeze compared to emailing the thing to the rest of the class. I broke out in a sweat just at the thought of it. Would mine be up to standard? Or would I have to finally admit that I was in the wrong place?

The following morning I waited to go into class, eyes cast down too terrified to look at anyone in case I caught them stifling a giggle. In fact, everyone was unusually quiet. Then from out of the huddle of miserable faces someone turned to me and said "I loved your story". What? Had I just heard correctly? Surely not? Is she pulling my leg? I am sure I detect a hint of sarcasm! Luckily from somewhere in the fog of confusion, exhilaration and utter disbelief I managed to produce a "thank you".

Later, one or two others also remarked that they thought mine was one of the best. "Ok guys now I'm just getting a big head"!

My lecturer's response was not so, well let’s say, positive. "It's clever," he said not sounding too convinced. "But a little cheaty". "CHEATY"! After feeling so relieved that my classmates had liked my work and having begun to feel just ever so slightly confident that I was not a total dunce and that maybe, just maybe, I was in the right place, his comment was like an ice cold knife in the ribs.

Normally, such a comment would have caused me to crumple under its weight and without psycho therapy I would never have managed to recover to my full size, all five foot of it, but this time something inside clicked.

Whether it was the praise of my classmates (I would just like to take this moment to thank them), or just me getting older I don't know, but instead I just casually raised an eyebrow and allowed a delicious thought to come to mind: in a perfect world, I would simply lean across the table and pinch him.