Snow day and nowhere to go. Sit down with the tremendous blue pen (thanks, Dom!), a piece of yellow construction paper, lean on the old laptop, start.
I teach the personal essay, and I don't miss the irony of how my mind kicks and screams when I go to write it now. It's empathy, I decide. The usual platitudes: just write something, anything, start somewhere and change it later, change it all.
I go.
No particular program in mind, a few gaps to be filled in, but after ten minutes, it's all there. The stories, the logical progression, the final lines. Deadlines come fast as blowing snow. Will I make them? Maybe, I'm not sure, but I've started, and that's a step forward for any year.
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