I am grateful to the famous professor and Kelly Writers House leader Al Filreis for sharing this clip with me yesterday. It brings back a beautiful day, late last October, when I first read from Handling the Truth and joined Cynthia Kaplan, James Martin, and John Prendergast in a conversation about the making of memoir.
Tomorrow I'll be at my alma mater and spring employer, the University of Pennsylvania, joining in on the
alumni memoir panel being hosted by Kelly Writers House for homecoming weekend. I'll be reading from
Handling the Truth (Gotham) and talking about the prickly enterprise of truth telling. I'll be answering questions. But what is making this already wonderful opportunity even sweeter is that I'll be seeing some of my past students.
This morning, for example, I woke to a glorious long email from Katie, who brought such golden light to the classroom this past spring and who emerged, during those Tuesday afternoons, as a real writer. If you're lucky someday, you'll meet this Katie of mine (of ours), whose email included the news that she has been accepted into top-choice medical programs. Katie is spending her gap year at a health ministry in a city that needs hearts and minds like hers. In the off hours (though it sounds as if there are no off hours), she is enrolled in photography classes at an art school. Katie has stories to tell, things to share, and this weekend she's returning to Penn, and if I'm lucky, I'll get to stand in her shimmering light for a while.
Nabil Mehta will be there, too, that engineering student and child actor whose highly poetic work enthralled us and whose
essay appeared in the Pennsylvania Gazette not long ago. And perhaps Liz, supremely wonderful Liz, on her way from the west coast to the east. And among those who may join us that afternoon is my just-named spring semester apprentice, Alice, who will be working with me as my Florence novel unfolds—conducting research, interviewing doctors, discovering how fact becomes story.
We adjunct teachers out here teach because of the doors that open when we do. We teach because our students keep us young, and keep us whole. This morning, when telling my husband of Katie's news, tears fell. When I read Nabil's essay in the
Gazette, or
Joe Polin's Gazette essay before that, when I saw
Rachel dance in Red Dot Dreaming, when my
Kim celebrated her engagement, when my
Moira got married, when Jonathan challenges me (with a smile), when the letters from galentines and searchers and doers enter in, joy breaks through.
That's the power of our students over us.
Late yesterday afternoon, I took a quick dance lesson then hurried to the train to see my kid, city side. I have been down there untold times of late—checking out apartments, moving boxes in, arriving, breathless, to help with something, and of course, this young man (
not a kid) needs no help at all. I'm just drumming up excuses to spend an hour here or there with him.
So that I have seen the city under sun and the city swollen with rain, the city just after dawn, the city late at night. And I have felt more energized and alive than I have felt for a long time. Philadelphia does that to me. And so do snatches of conversation with my guy.
This morning a text comes in, six a.m.ish.
I'm working on my story, it said. Because my son shares this with me, this love of words. This pleasure taken in filling the silent hours with vivid fictions. By now, he's off to work, first day. And my happiness for him is giant.
Meanwhile, Ryan Richards of Main Line Media News interviewed me yesterday morning at 8:15 a.m. (not-ish) and, 13 hours later, this
Springsteen-infused story (which is also about the making of
Small Damages for Philomel) had been posted. Tuesday is day-before-pub day there at Main Line Media News and Ryan plays a central role in getting all stories out and prettied up for show. I have no idea, therefore, how he wrote such a nice story in the midst of all that, but I thank him. I hope he got some sleep last night.
Finally, tucked into the day was this formal announcement from Penn about the Homecoming Weekend Panel I'll be sharing with my friends Buzz Bissinger, John Prendergast, and Cynthia Kaplan, as well as James Martin, whom I am eager to meet. Join us if you can.
October 27, 2012/Saturday 4:30 PM - 6:30 PM
Memoir: Methods and Meanings
Kelly Writers House
Arts Cafe
3805 Locust Walk
Join alumni authors at Kelly Writers House as they read from and talk about their work in memoir. Panelists include Pulitzer Prize-winner Buzz Bissinger C'76, whose latest book is Father's Day: A Journey Into the Mind and Heart of My Extraordinary Son; essayist and performer Cynthia Kaplan C'85, whose 'true stories' are collected in Why I'm Like This and Leave the Building Quickly; Beth Kephart C'82, author of multiple memoirs and young-adult novels, and of the forthcoming Handling the Truth; and James Martin W'82, author of In Good Company, which tells the story of his conversion from GE executive to Jesuit priest, and eight other books. Pennsylvania Gazette Editor John Prendergast C'80 will moderate the discussion. Advance registration is not required, but seating is limited. RSVP to [email protected] or call (215) 746-POEM.
By: Beth Kephart ,
on 1/24/2013
This is WONDERFUL, Beth!!! I am so grateful to have gotten to share these moments with you and "Handling the Truth." (I'll be watching it again and again.) xo
Oh, these are such beautiful words to start my morning and I've already learned so much through them and the discussion afterwards. I would love to curl up in the corner of your classroom and just...listen. What happened to the kitty?
Very interesting, what you said at the end about having to be afraid ...
This makes me want to read your book—and to track down that essay on John Gardener!