Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Not sure.



I found this embedded on a friend's blog, so I did what all good researchers do, I copped the URL. Yesterday was a good day for a melt down. I wasn't in school and I had the time to fully appreciate the pressure of having three books due by year's end. Today was a great day for a recovery -- a full day at my desk to put ideas in documents and chapters in folders. How long will my productive recovery period last? Not sure.

The book on vocabulary development, High Definition is the closest I ever want to get to a dissertation. Too close, as a matter of fact. Lots of research, lots of URLs, piles of books, three years of classroom student samples, even index cards. Yes, I come from that generation of small white cards sorted by topic. On a good day, I think like stacks of little index cards. On a bad day, the cards are all airborne and refuse to be corralled. This is a real image in my mind. Putting ideas in little stacks. What images come to the minds of kids whose hands guide controllers and keyboards instead of pens? Not sure.

Exchanged email with an old friend (we are of course not old, there have just been a lot of years since we met) who commented that my blog really put my life out there. Another friend once observed that for some people their life is an open book, mine (because of all the books of poetry) is like a billboard. Is that too much or just enough? Not sure.

I exchanged a couple of emails with an artist friend who is illustrating two of the new books and currently working on Zombies! Evacuate the School. I told her that my insecurities were barking yesterday. She told me that sometimes hers "meow and growl and beat on the door with fists." Producing art of the written or drawn kind is a constant struggle with the critical internal voices that push you to do better one minute and trip you up the next. Will I ever be able to quiet them? Seems like I should have mastered that by now, but at this point . . . not sure.

Then, I hit save on the poetry chapter of the vocab book and with a few spare minutes before bed, I found this little video which makes me wonder all over again if any of this has any practical value. Maybe I should be investing more of my time on facebook and less on writing? I'm not sure.

Time for bed.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Sara,

Wasn't sure how to contact you on your blog, so I chose this comment section. It was nice to meet you at the Lit and great to hear you read your poetry. You read one that was an insultingly funny dialogue between two people. I loved it. Would you share it with me agan? (poetswirl@att.net) You told me you like Dorothy Parker and I wondered if you read this one from her:

[Title??]

So if, my friend, you'd have it end/ There's naught to hear or tell/ But need you try to black my eye/ In wishing me farewell?/

I must admit and edged wit in woe is warrented/ May I be frank? Such words as "_____"/ Are better left unsaid

There's rosemary for you and me/
But is it usual, dear/ To hire a man and fill a van/ By way of souvenir?

Cheers,

Dan Mullen (aka McAvoy) [storyinblue.com]

Kim Sande said...

Dear Sara -- we have booked your for our North Dakota state reading conference April 29, 30 and May 1. I've seen you in person and I knew I wanted you to be our guest but now I read your blog and I am so proud of myself for picking you -- okay, but it's not all about me. You are wonderful -- I will be contacting you soon (through Heinemann) to run a few things by you. We are so glad you are coming!!!! -Kim Sande, Navigating Literacy in a Changing World, Conference Chair

Lee Ann Spillane: said...

It is not all for naught. What would my students (or I?) do without your poetry? They save us, Sara, so keep writing.