School is about to begin in my school district. My school is two blocks from the looting that was going on in Ferguson, and less than 1/4 mile from where a young man lost his life.
As the investigation continues, some of the residents have taken to the streets to clean up and show the pride they still have in their neighborhood. And it is a wonderful neighborhood.
The road to healing and repairing frayed connections is a long one...
My current WIP is slowly growing. Around six months ago, it was "finished" in my mind--at 84,000 words--but of course it was only an incredibly rough draft that had to be chucked. Now, the conflict is a stronger thread (at least I hope it is). Conflict in a novel is a good thing, a necessary thing. Conflict with real people and real bullets...not good at all.
This year (lucky, lucky me) I am teaching only writing (and just a little social studies). I am thrilled beyond belief. Three sections of writing every day. (I keep pinching myself, to ascertain if it's a dream or reality, so my cellulite's getting some extra attention.) This is a totally new groove for me to get into.
As far as my WIP, I'm working on fictionalizing reality. Making it funnier. Making it more cohesive. Making it--yikes!--first person. It's sending me in new directions, and my friends have morphed into different people. It's slow slogging. But, it's evolving into (IhopeIhopeIhope) a more satisfying story.
In my classroom, I'm stepping more and more out of my box this school year. I bought a hardhat and decoupaged it all up (with writing phrases) and will wear it often during the school year as we construct and deconstruct our writing pieces. I purchased a tool belt (that thing will really accentuate my poochy belly) and we will be adding tools to our tool belt as we grow as writers. Hopefully, the kids will get a kick out of it.
I've grown as a writer in the last two years I've been a WWWP. There are times (not all the time) that I put myself into the shoes of my critique group members and cut out the unneeded words/parts instinctively. Sometimes enough of the persistence that flows through the other women rubs off on me. Sometimes I'm even able to come up with a decent title. (Usually, I have not a single idea when it comes to titles.)
How about you? What fiction or nonfiction are you reading right now? What kind of fiction are you weaving into your everyday reality? Do you think a hardhat will adequately cover the horror that is my hair