Prompt Four: Announce

Flee When Faced With Uncomfortable Announcements

How do you tell someone that their piece is bad? Do you just announce it to them, or do you explain, as gently as you can that you aren't a fan of it? I didn't realize it would be this hard.

I don't exactly know how I got into this mess in the first place, with this perky, zealous freshman standing in front of me, holding out his piece for my critique. How did this happen?

Ever since I've gotten off of my creative withdrawal, I've been spending massive amounts of time in the pottery room on campus, trying to make up for the months I lost while in my slump. Sometimes there are others here too, people still attending the school doing extra work for class, or working on graduation pieces or what not. Mostly they leave me to my work, and I leave me to theirs, but sometimes we do engage in conversation. There are regulars who come in, and after a while we've become acquaintances.

Today, there was someone new who came in to work. He looked very young, so I knew immediately it was his first year here. He started chatting animatedly to anyone who would listen, and several of the others rolled their eyes at me in annoyance. I knew the feeling; this kid seemed nice and all, but he was rather irritating.

Before long, several of the other students began to gather their things and leave. This guy was just too much to handle. I stayed, because I knew I'd be able to tune him out. As it turns out, that wasn't such a good idea.

When the others were gone, he decided he'd come try and make friends.

"Hi," he chirped, sitting beside me.

"Hello," I said, not looking up from my work.

"Wow, you're amazing!" he said, watching me form the clay.

"Uhm, thank you," I said with an uncomfortable, self-depreciating laugh.

"You really are! I've never seen anyone shape clay this good! And you're a student here?"

I shook my head. "Not anymore. I graduated recently, but I'm still welcome to use the equipment, seeing as I have none of my own."

"That's awesome!" he said.

By this time, I was beginning to wish he'd just go away. Even Morita wasn't this annoying.

"Hey, would you give me your opinion on the piece I just finished?" he said suddenly.

"What!?" I said, straightening in surprise. "No, I couldn't. I'm not -,"

"Oh, come on! You're great, and it would really mean a lot to me if someone with real talent told me what they thought."

Oh-ho, that boy knew how to lay on the flattery. I sighed, somehow knowing I'd regret it. "Okay, fine. Let me see it."

He beamed, and ran over to where his pot was cooling by the kiln. I watched as he picked it up and brought it over for me to inspect, and I fought a grimace.

There's no real way to describe how it looks when a pot is shaped badly. You'd have to see it. And there's no way to explain how it's bad. It just is.

I stare at this thing, trying to bite back what I'm thinking, lest it burst out of my mouth. Would announcing it's awfulness be better, or should I be as nice as I can about it?

"Well?" he asks. "What do you think?"

What do I do? What do I say? "Well, uh, you're…technique could use some work," I say slowly in an attempt to soften the blow.

Nevertheless, his face falls. "You don't like it?"

"I, uh, well," I say, trying to stall and decide the best course of action. Finally, I give up. "No, not really. I'm sorry, but it's not that good."

"Oh. I see." God, it's like I've kicked a puppy.

"Well, look at it this way," I say, trying to cheer him up. "Not everyone is just naturally fantastic. I was that bad when I first started out too. I had to work really hard to get this good."

That brings a bit of hope back to his face. "Really?"

I nod, even if it's not true. Yes, I had to work hard to get good at pottery, but I was never that bad.

"Well then I'll keep trying!" he cries, determination etched onto his features. "Thanks!"

I nod again weakly and watch him leave. Note to self: flee when asked to make uncomfortable announcements on the spot.