Thursday, November 08, 2007
Wendy's A-Ha Blog
So, I'm tired, and I think I'm getting this viral croupy hooha that Lexi has and so I'm beginning this five hours past the time that I told you to begin looking for it and fifty-six minutes after I told you to stop looking for it. So, you may never see it, though only three of you have noticed that it's not already there, at least, only three of you have sent me any notification of your awareness that it's not there yet. But, well, that's another story. And now I'm going to try, while Lexi is on her early-evening-peak of feeling good before she comes crashing down into a pile of snot, vomit and wailing, to write for you. Right now, she's sitting behind me pretending to tickle me and banging her head (hard) against my back and using my pony tail like, well, like a pony mane. I might not get far.
So, now you know that teachers can have bad days too. Which is why I generally try to be pretty accommodating about your (often made up - wink wink) reasons for not doing whatever it is that you don't do for my class. We're all human, and we're all grown-ups, so there's no point in pretending like I'm above flaking out. Hopefully, dear god, hopefully, I make up for it with my ingeniously enlightening, funny, and deeply meaningful teaching style.
Well, enough of that. I thought I'd just blog for you. And you can comment on it. Tell me I've full of it, boring, whatever.
I went to Iowa on Thursday, as you know. It was for a writers' conference called NonfictioNow. And it was effing amazing. Really. But I was worried about leaving my husband and Lexi for four days. Four days! But that's another story.
I've been to lots of these academic conferences and a few writers' conferences. They're usually mostly places where you get to see a few heroes (in my case, Mark Doty, Ander Monson, Deborah Marquart, Robin Hemley, etc., etc.), hang with friends you haven't seen in a while, and drink. Drinking is the primary activity.
But that's another story altogether.
I've been having a hard time getting a groove on the book that I'm writing. That's partly the fault of y'all, what with all the papers you turn in (how dare you!). But being in Iowa, around writers who write stuff I want to read and who want to read stuff I write, gave me a new lease on life. Seriously. It was an "a-ha" experience. The kind of experience that sends you to the computer for hours, during which you don't know that hours have passed. It was so awesome.
So, what I want to know from you is for you to tell me (us) about an "a-ha moment," the moment where you knew what you wanted to be when you grew up, where you knew what you wanted to study, where you knew you were in love for real and for the first time, where you knew that you are, in fact, more like your mom than you ever wanted to be. Something like that. Write! Right now.
So, I'm tired, and I think I'm getting this viral croupy hooha that Lexi has and so I'm beginning this five hours past the time that I told you to begin looking for it and fifty-six minutes after I told you to stop looking for it. So, you may never see it, though only three of you have noticed that it's not already there, at least, only three of you have sent me any notification of your awareness that it's not there yet. But, well, that's another story. And now I'm going to try, while Lexi is on her early-evening-peak of feeling good before she comes crashing down into a pile of snot, vomit and wailing, to write for you. Right now, she's sitting behind me pretending to tickle me and banging her head (hard) against my back and using my pony tail like, well, like a pony mane. I might not get far.
So, now you know that teachers can have bad days too. Which is why I generally try to be pretty accommodating about your (often made up - wink wink) reasons for not doing whatever it is that you don't do for my class. We're all human, and we're all grown-ups, so there's no point in pretending like I'm above flaking out. Hopefully, dear god, hopefully, I make up for it with my ingeniously enlightening, funny, and deeply meaningful teaching style.
Well, enough of that. I thought I'd just blog for you. And you can comment on it. Tell me I've full of it, boring, whatever.
I went to Iowa on Thursday, as you know. It was for a writers' conference called NonfictioNow. And it was effing amazing. Really. But I was worried about leaving my husband and Lexi for four days. Four days! But that's another story.
I've been to lots of these academic conferences and a few writers' conferences. They're usually mostly places where you get to see a few heroes (in my case, Mark Doty, Ander Monson, Deborah Marquart, Robin Hemley, etc., etc.), hang with friends you haven't seen in a while, and drink. Drinking is the primary activity.
But that's another story altogether.
I've been having a hard time getting a groove on the book that I'm writing. That's partly the fault of y'all, what with all the papers you turn in (how dare you!). But being in Iowa, around writers who write stuff I want to read and who want to read stuff I write, gave me a new lease on life. Seriously. It was an "a-ha" experience. The kind of experience that sends you to the computer for hours, during which you don't know that hours have passed. It was so awesome.
So, what I want to know from you is for you to tell me (us) about an "a-ha moment," the moment where you knew what you wanted to be when you grew up, where you knew what you wanted to study, where you knew you were in love for real and for the first time, where you knew that you are, in fact, more like your mom than you ever wanted to be. Something like that. Write! Right now.
Labels: a-ha, comments, community, when I grow up, Write
