At 7:15 EST each morning you can picture me standing in front of 28 freshman students sharing everything I've learned about writing over the last ten years. Three of those mornings they write in their journal for ten minutes and I join them (modeling, you know) and that is all I'm writing for now. But I love to see my students bent over their words, crafting their memories into images, sweating over the perfect lead or really questioning where the best spot might be to add dialogue. I love teaching the craft of writing but I must admit to you that teaching reading to freshman or 2nd graders or even grandparents (like I did in a literacy class in Virginia) is still my favorite. Oh, I love to fiddle with words but there is nothing finer than turning someone into a reader. This year I know I have already converted one soul to the cathedral of books. More, I hope, shall follow. Despite all the changes my current life is raining down on me like the autumn leaves I know I'm gathering images, plucking up snatches of dialogue, pouring images into the well. Someday (and soon, I hope) the words will spill.
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