pixkris: Wedding Day Smiles (Inspire Writing)
It's been ages since I posted to my teaching site, and I'm fairly sure I've lost the few readers I'd gained in the interim. I made the decision today to stop worrying about posting full essays and just start blogging. I plan to blog regularly since I will no longer be so stressed about making each essay Absolutely!Perfect! and would really appreciate some help bringing the site back to life.

Would you please pimp my blog? Or, if you have any interest, just stop by from time to time? Make me a happy little bookmark? Oh dear. I'm turning into the Bob Ross of bloggers. Save me from myself!

Here's the most recent entry: "Blogging and Other Funingly Things".

Thank you, all.
pixkris: Wedding Day Smiles (edumacashun)
Oh my. I just taught my creative writing class. The students are starting their first complete short story, so we were focusing on character development. Part of the lesson involved reading a short chapter about character from Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird. This is a teeny, tiny workshop class--only four students due to a scheduling screw up--so we're very close. Anyway, we start taking turns reading through the chapter, and we get to the section about creating likable narrators. Lamott writes:

If your narrator is someone whose take on things fascinates you, it isn't really going to matter if nothing much happens for a long time. I could watch John Cleese or Anthony Hopkins do the dishes for about an hour without needing much else to happen.

Only the girl reading, a junior, doesn't say "John Cleese." She accidently says, "John Cheese." And for whatever reason, this strikes all of us as unbearably funny. We started to laugh and could. not. stop. I tried to take over the reading, but then they'd start giggling again and I'd lose it. I honestly don't know why "John Cheese" is so funny. The visual, maybe? Then we started inserting references to John Cheese into the rest of the chapter, and it was all over.

Now a person's faults are largely what make him or her likable....Preoccupation with self is good, as is a tendency toward procrastination, self-delusion, darkness, jealousy [or an obsession with Gouda]. They shouldn't be too perfect; perfect means shallow and unreal and fatally uninteresting. I like for them to have a sick sense of humor, [to carve little statues out of sharp Vermont cheddar and give them to their love interests].

Yeah. We didn't get much more done. I'm sure this is nowhere near as funny to anyone outside of our class, but I'm still chortling. This is one of those moments when I think that I have the best job ever.
pixkris: Wedding Day Smiles (onward)
[livejournal.com profile] ocvictor left me to tell the story of my journey to Worcester last night, and I'd love to to do so with wit and eloquence...but I'm damned tired and think I'll riff on the classics instead.

Ahem. Only an English geek would filk it. I know.


Whan that Junne with his shoures soake,
the deluge of day hath perced to the roote,
and bathed every carre with suche licour,
of which confusion engendered is the driver;
whan Victor doth with his swete breeth,
inspired hath to visit holt and heeth
the tendre Buffistas, and the yonge sonne
hath 'neathe clouds his halfe cours y-ronne,
and NPR radio maken melodye
(that watcheth politicks with open ye,
so pricketh liberals to vote in perpetuity),
than longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,
and Buffistas for to seken straunge slounges,
to talken of television's gems and dredges;
And specially, from every shires ende
of New Engelond, to Worcester they wende,
the former Somervillian for to seke
that them hath left for California's sake.


Bifel that, in that seasoun on a day,
on the Yahoo Maps, a faulty path wast lay,
which would cripple my pilgrimage
to Worcester, tho with ful devout corage,
at night was diverted to desert road
and trapped when tyre did explode;
with nary a sign nor landmark to see
to helpen anyone to finden me,
the rental companye wast afraide
an address wast needed ere rescue made;
so walken I through falling rain
until college scoreboarde didst provide name
that allowed my knights to seken my carre
whiche had not taken me verra far.


Rescue came with Buffista and tow
and doughnut tyre attached to go
to Victor's house, tho houres late
in time for Indian food to eate;
as conversation didst ensue
the night's travails were nearly through,
whan rental companye brought new carre
from Boston to replace one marred;
my pilgrimage wast at laste success
and revels began with hoste and guests:
Victor, Connie, Sarah and love dear,
good companye who asked to hear
this tale of all the strength to muster
before pilgrimage taken is to Worcester.
pixkris: Wedding Day Smiles (Brave)
So I've decided to get back to a project I've been distracted from for too long. Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] paperdol for providing inspiration through her own stellar example.

I have a whole book's worth of essays about life as a teacher. The only problem is that they are all in my head. So. It is time to get them on paper...or, screen...or...whatever. You get the idea.

My goal is to write at least one essay every other week--two a month. I want to start with modest goals so I don't get frustrated if I fall behind. If I get inspired and write more, fabulous.

Eventually, I want to find an agent who might be interested in looking at these as a book...working title: My Dog Ate Your Homework (yes, true story).

I can do this, right?

November 2010

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