The semester is over & done with. And it doesn't matter that I have a tall stack of final papers awaiting grades, or 44 Final Grades to dispense. Somehow it all feels incidental, no big deal, a simple chore.
Going up again was really fun this time around. My story sparked lots of lively discourse about the old "dividing line between prose and poetry" and so on. Someone called my latest story "a failed experiment." Someone else said it was "impressive." Another person said "I hope you don't get lost in your own voice." And so on.
Afterwards, we all ate together. And I brought some homebrews and a giant salad with pine nuts. Around 8:45 p.m. or so, after my gut was filled with Bolognese, I said, "Gotta git, y'all" (as I tend to really miss Janelle & Ella when I'm away for too long). Something about being surrounded by all these young, vibrant, beguiling writers. It makes me happy for them, and also thankful that I'm where I'm at in life. (I was worried about this at the outset. I wondered, "Jesus, surrounded by all these young, vibrant, beguiling writers, will I feel useless and spent?" Answer: No. Not so much. Young geniuses don't appear that different from youngsters in general, whose time is a time of energy, but also a time of trial and error and more errors and still more errors. And it's all one big trial...ultimately, it's not that interesting.)
There are untold wonders in this little settlement of ours - wonders that dwarf anything I ever read in any book or poem. I'm glad we came to Iowa. There are many good things here, now that I stop to look around.
No comments:
Post a Comment