As Always, Thankful For The Canine Distraction to Lighten My Day

Last night, I called a stellar teacher in Bridgeport who I've been helping edit a chapter he's written for a National Writing Project publication. I'm always skeptical of feedback, because I learned quickly (the hard way?) that until one writes to be put into print, they never understand the true nature of writing for publication. One mentor told me that it takes 15 major revisions before any piece of writing is acceptable.

Anyways, I'm amazed at how quick he's addressed my suggestions and even more surprised by his feedback on my feedback. "You just get it," he said. "You see what I'm trying to do, and actually doing, before I can see it." I assured him this is true of most writing. What I was able to see in his draft, I too often fail to see in my own.

I spent 14 hours yesterday working on a revision of my own, trying to see where the disconnect is between what I'm trying to say (and believing I'm saying) and what the readers/editors are actually reading. Sometimes I luck out and figure it out on my own, but this one piece I'm working on is driving me nuts. I've been revising it for years, and keep on coming back to it

Back to my teaching friend in Bridgeport. When I got his text of appreciation I decided to call him. "It feels, sometimes, that I never talk to anyone anymore," I told him. "Since today was your first day back with students, I thought I'd check in to see how it went."

He filled me in on his school year and we kept weaving back to his writing, my writing, his work, and my work. Basically, we just checked in with one another about the projects in our worlds. Of course, this is when Glamis gets most attentive. She can't stand when I'm talking to anyone on the phone and immediately climbs in my lap, pushing her nose closer and closer to my mouth. While I wrote most of the day, she slept. Because of the rain, she didn't want to go outside. In fact, I think she spent most of her time upstairs on my bed where she's not supposed to be.

Yet, as soon as my voice said, "Just calling to check in. It's faster than texting, and I wanted to talk to you more about your chapter," I heard the claws clipping and clapping down the stairs. Vroom! Right on my lap and directly in my face. Are you talking to me, huh? Huh? What are you saying? Can I lick your nose? I really like to lick your nose when you are talking? What do you mean get down? I want to lick your eyeballs. Please! Please. Can I lick your eyeballs.

And that is the way it goes. Call me crazy, but I absolutely love the distraction and reminder that the world is not all about my laptop.