Changes …

The count down continues to my defense.  Two weeks remain in the term.  The next few weeks will be a flutter of activity.  Finalizing The Document for the library, marking papers and meeting my students for the last few times.  And then the mad holiday rush.

And then nothing.  I’m trying to push aside that particular frustration and just focus on the now but, despite the appearance of job postings, there truly are no openings for the Spring term.  And so I will be forced to turn to my writing.  This will be Year 2 of an inactive January.  I am not used to this.  At Simon Fraser I taught year ‘round and through the summer semesters unless I chose not to apply for a position.  I knew that I was guaranteed work.  But here (especially at this time of cutbacks) I feel like I’m begging for table scraps.

Sometimes I think the whole teaching and career route is a giant source of procrastination for my writing.  But nevertheless, I’m preparing myself to sink into true writing mode.  It’s been almost 14 years since I worked full-time as a writer.  And failed dismally.  I know I’m good at teaching but I wonder if I have the guts to keep with the writing this time.  And the aloneness.

Although I suppose one is hardly alone when she is surrounded by her characters.  On the other hand, there is a fine line between interacting with imaginary people and characer development.  I’m not sure this family can deal with me in full-fledged writer’s mode.  I take on all the ecentricities one would expect.  Wandering about muttering to myself constantly.  Living in a dream world that translates so inadequately to paper.

The work on the dead hard drive needs to be resurrected.  Or it could be left and forgotten.  I could start anew.  Yet I’ve kept the drive on my desk.  Waiting for time to try to give it CPR or take it in to the medics.

There is another route.  A slight possibility that I could be hired, if I apply, into the department that would appear to be my area based on my graduate degrees.  But that would mean a huge shift in my research.  Oh,  I would still focus on language arts but I would have to move away from composition studies and my doctoral work and into the language arts at the secondary level.  I’m not sure I want to go back to researching classroom teachers.  Last time didn’t turn out so well.

In the meantime, I will read the last few pages of Alice Munro’s Too Much Happiness and be inspired (as I have been for 25 years).

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