What Would You Do?

So I met with a student today to talk about a story of hers or his that was workshopped on Tuesday. Yes, I'm privileged. But it comes with some responsibility, some serious responsibility, like when you see what a student is capable of and you start to consider the potential influence you may have and, in the best, most humbly capable moment, despite his or her having no aspirations whatsoever for a writing life, decide that he or she needs to be encouraged, stoked, need I say inspired to tell the truth, and then something inside you crumbles. A little bit. It's sad. And exciting. Right? If not, then it's just another kid who needs a degree, and creative writing is nothing more than college writing is nothing more or less than biology or philosophy or dance.

So I sent this person an afterthought email, kind of like Dago was famous for after a workshop. And it was this wonderful purge where I got to talk about writing, specific to a story and author, and I pressed send without caring what the student would think but knowing that it had felt good to write it - that it was honest, that it had helped me to write it - and to send it, to communicate about writing. I guess what I'm saying is, can we all talk about writing again? Concretely. Because I miss it even though I'm talking about it, and doing it and living it, however clumsily and resentfully. This (writing, reading), I think, is the only thing that's real. I tell my students that Story is my religion, like any other, and most of them look at me like I'm insane. Is it not? Can you serve two masters? If I could take a graduate degree in myth or story right now, then I would, but I'm afraid I already have. Will you guys tell me I'm crazy? Or help. Until then, I'll continue to follow my own, and do as I've suddenly started preaching: lie, fantasize, dream, wonder, fear, risk, change, fight, surrender. Guided reading, solitary living, boingo boingo fun fun!, yearn for more discipline (DEADLINES!), fuck it all and do nothing. And in doing nothing know what's possible. Hope for guidance.

I mean I'm happy, I'm okay. It's all good! How are you?

p.s. i love lurkers who don't comment! voyeurz rok, but exhibitionists do it better!

Three links/ questions

What's the story of your life in six words?

What are your feelings on the semicolon ?

Okay this one isn't going to work as a question. It's just an essay I loved that I somehow missed when it came out this summer in the Book of the Times section. I guess if forced, I would say the real question is: what kind of support do you need right now?

Interview and a contest

Over at Litpark there's an interview with Oronte Churm, the fellow who writes “Dispatches from Adjunct Faculty at a Large State University” for McSweeney's. Along with the post is a contest, deadline March 7, to write your own 75-word nonfiction "truth" in the comments section. Judge is Steve Davenport, Creative Nonfiction Editor of Ninth Letter, four prizes, grand prize is $100. Do it. Do it.

Good luck, Ms. Hall!

Reminder: The Austin Chronicle short story contest winners will be announced tonight at 7pm at BookPeople.

Here's a link to the weird back story

And one to the first place story

And here's Pringle's story

For those of you who are teaching

or know someone in college. Here's a contest.

Happy Fat Tuesday

I can't get anything done today even though Super Tuesday results won't be in for a while. I'm dying to know what's happening in NY and California. Tell us something, anything.

Here's my favorite quote today:

The first voter to emerge from one New York City polling station said he had voted for Obama.

"For so many reasons. I think Hillary has so much baggage, I want a black president whose middle name is Hussein and he seems like a great guy," said Stuart Bernstein, 47, a literary agent.

Well, AWPers? What news?

While I wait for dispatches (and I know I won't get any until the weekend is over). Here's a link about the long wait from final draft to bookshelf.