There was this moment in class yesterday where I wanted to hide out under the covers- because I was tickling that point of absolute honesty with my self and my story. It is a frightening feeling. Thank you Mike for being such an open listener- you let me talk through the moment as we workshopped yesterday. It isn't even that horrible of an act, but it is upsetting to me and how I see my character.
The exercise of writing down your thoughts as you write your words was fascinating. I never, EVER realized I thought so much more than what ended on the page. My thoughts (not words) were searching for purpose- for clarity- it was for capturing the scene as it was at that moment. My mind is a hazy dream and I am trying to make sense of the images floating there. Those moments of actuality that happened so long ago.
It got me thinking about this exercise from a language standpoint as well- how I think about meaning and intent when talking. I must do it while writing. How do you get to the point of free form? I don't know if it exists truly. There are always factors in play. There is always the time of day, the temperature of the room, the desire to get to the next point for me.
The deeper we get into the memoir writing, the more I look forward to talking about how we as English teachers can put a value on it. I love what Bonnie said about grading the presence, not the quality. But there is a level of expectation as well. A level for an age, an individual. When I think of myself as an English Teacher, I think of myself as the type who pushes her students to achieve greatness (by greatness I think I mean discovering something about them-self through writing and reading) . This probably will involve pissing them off sometimes. And their parents. I think I can handle it.
I hope I can.
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