Fenton

one man.

two images.

a title as forbidding as possible:
the valley of the shadow of death.

the crimean war.

and a controversy about the photos themselves.

enough said.

wrote a single-sentence email exceeding 300 words to no one and sent it, after much thought, to myself. rants are best kept to yourself unless you really want some else thinking about you in that particular sort of manic way that is naturally part of a rant.

had the most productive day of my short writing career sandwiched by two of the least. will not even begin to speak of this occurence.

flattered self that i was managing the obscene level of work the new semester demands, but stopped short of believing it.

hoped that no one will read or believe any of the material found in this dog-eared lost book, then thought better of it.

notch in the belt

meaning workshop, of course. my story went up and was treated kindly, constructively, if that is at all possible. came out of it with a lot of new ideas and direction for the piece. it took no more than the use flak for the second-person pov, so i won't complain there. so--now i don't have to workshop a thing until nov.

joy. utter. joy.

where do we come from, why are we here, where are we going?

tomorrow = first day of teaching

i know. I know. 

but there isn't anything i can do about it now. i am about as ready as i can be, which is good, i suppose, since i am about to be in charge of helping 18 freshman limp along the way to producing better prose. 

also, i'd better be prepared today--i teach at the very unforgiving time of 8:30-10:00 am. 

wish me luck.