When I was in junior high, we did not have English class, we had Language Arts. Predictably, this was my favorite class, especially Fridays because Fridays were Anthology Day.
On Anthology Day the teacher would show us a short film or some slides for inspiration and then we’d get the rest of the afternoon to write. We had special notebooks for our work, which got handed in once a week for the teacher to check.
You could write a poem or a short story, but you had to write something every week. I usually wrote a poem, although I do remember writing at least one story about horses. Most of my classmates just copied something from a book, which was allowed, but I only did that once. It was some modern poem about a fly that I copied out more for the shock value than anything else. It was pretty gross.
Every Friday I’d hand in an original piece, which my teacher would make much of. Although even back then I was not encouraged to do anything with my writing other than just dabble for pleasure. Journalistic endeavors were encouraged, not so with fiction or poetry. Journalism is something that never really interested me so I was never encouraged to pursue my writing. But, that’s beside the point.
At the end of the school year the best poems and stories were published in a school funded chapbook called Serendipity. I remember I had the distinction of having not one, but two poems included. One was called the Overlanders (I remember the teacher was very taken with it), based on a film we watched on the settling of the prairies, and I’m sad to say I have no idea what the other one was. Neither my anthology notebook nor my copy of Serendipity made it to adulthood with me.
The reason for this ramble down memory lane is that I’ve decided as a boost to my creativity, I am going to designate Fridays as my informal anthology day. Most often it will probably be a poem, but I might sneak in the occasional story or excerpt from a work in progress, so remember to check back and be surprised.