English 145 (10): The What Still

It rained yesterday, and the wet was in my socks and in my hair, it was the glance across my jacket, it was the chill in the room of Kelly Writers House, where my students had gathered to discuss their literary reportage projects. We got the heaters turned on to blast the chill away. We had peanut butter cookies to bolster our thinking. We measured how far each writer had come. We talked through the what next, the what now, the what still.

There is no perfect, I reminded them. There is only working toward good. Only studying structure and frame. Only vigilance against excess, presumption, assumption. Only remembering that it is in revision that we often find the heart of our story. Good writing takes time. Take that time, I insisted.

This week, the students will write their final pieces, reflections on "how their view of writing in general and of their own work in particular has been shaped, pummeled, reinforced, redirected, teased, or afflicted by English 145." I am interested, I have told them, " in how what you have read has shaped what you will likely read (and not read) moving forward. I am interested in how the work of your fellow students has broadened your idea of what writing can be. I am interested in where you think you will go next, as an emerging author."

They'll send me their papers. We'll celebrate with a final lunch. And then that will be it. My own, strange, wonderful journey with English 145.