Most of yesterday and today I spent helping other people write. In the case of the students in the metafiction class this meant asking the leading questions that they needed to figure out what they already kind of know but have trouble articulating (something I can relate to oh so well, but that's another topic for another post) editing my mother's final for the graduate class she is taking, and in the case of my little brother, completely rewriting an art show brief for him.
It was exhausting, but it felt good, especially when the one student who has been having the most trouble with the concept of metafiction finally got it and not just in a way where she could recite what it is, but in an internalizing, really getting it way. I felt like she was one of my kids: I got all choked up.
Anyway, this is how I know now that the way that I have chosen (even though it involves large quantities of epic poems) is the right one. It just feels right, you know?
Plus, I like learning about stuff and then sounding smart once I have learned it. This is only possible sometimes, but I sounded really smart in class today when I remembered the publication dates of three separate novels. I have no idea why I can remember stuff like that and still forget things I read only yesterday. But hey, who am I to question?
1 comment:
I just added you to my list of must-reads. I meant to add you to my reader a long time ago but then I forgot how to do it. Thank goodness for google allowing me to stalk people easier.
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