I am again going to type things without revising/thinking, and try to just state facts, though we'll see:

This morning Kathy Pories and Jane Rosenman gave quick talks about the 'publishing business' and then took questions from the audience. Pories is an editor at Algonquin. Rosenman is an editor at a big New York house (I cannot remember which one). The talk was standard. I did not hear anything new. This was not good or bad. I do not remember much of it.

Jim and I went for a run. Probably about 4 miles. We went to two different overlooks. Look at this poet's blog for pictures of the overlook. This poet is also 'blogging' Sewanee. Just like Cliff.

After the run I met with Christine for lunch. She is very nice. We went over the rest of my MS. She read to me parts she liked, and then, for all but one of the stories, went line by line with suggested cuts. Her suggestions were very good; the cuts are very smart. I want to try to describe the cuts. In my head, I was thinking how the cuts she suggested involve sections in the story in which I lapse into some attempt at a basic judgment or overaching concern of the story: basically, places of too much explanation. I think these sections are like little notes to myself about the story. They are probably not necessary. Christine then gave me a few suggestions for submitting. It was a good meeting.

Then Jim and I took reading stuff out to a lake here on the mountain. The lake has a swimming hole, and a rope ladder, and a dock to sit on. I felt like I was twelve. I have not used a rope swing to jump into a lake for a long time. Also, I was reminded of how bad at swimming I really am. When we first got to the lake, there were a bunch of high schoolers there. They were talking about their favorite animals. One girl said hers was the polar bear. Another girl said she liked squirrels. Later, a mother showed up with her two sons. The youngest son asked his older brother, "How's the water?" and the older brother said, "Wet." I laughed at that. Also overheard from the youngest son: "I'm going to stick an almond between my toes and see what happens."

I have no idea.

Greg Williamson read poetry afterwards. He was really funny. He read this thing he said was 'creative nonpoetry' and it was really funny. My back hurt from laughing. It is forthcoming in Iron Horse Literary Review.

I met Michelle Brower, an agent, today and talked with her about submitting story collections, etc, how that works. She seemed to suggest that backing up the collection with part of a novel in progress was a good idea. She was very nice. I need to figure out how to write a novel.


For the evening reading, we listened to Margot Livesey read from her new book.

Today I officially met someone from my workshop - Thomas Young - who coincidentally flew C-130s in the MD Air Gaurd at Martin State Airbase at the same time my dad flew A-10s at the same airbase. Young is still in the Gaurd, still flying, and he is also writing. He has a great personal narrative in Operation Homecoming, an anthology of writing by soldiers and their families. Go here for a few excerpts from the book, and buy it if you'd like to read his essay. I listened to him read the essay during the open-mic tonight.

Drinks again at the French House. Much talking. Chatter. Etc. Then some pingpong, etc.

Etc. Up too late, etc.

Today I felt less skeptical of people and my feelings of meanness went away a little and I felt a little guilty today. Today I felt relaxed and really hungry. Today I felt ecstatic and antsy. I also felt tired of talking to people, but I also felt happy to keep talking to people. I tried to calm myself down a lot today at certain points by thinking that I should just stop thinking too many things and stop saying stupid things to people.

People I know here now know I am 'blogging' about Sewanee. Dear people I know: I won't say anything personal. You are cool people. I will only say stupid things about me.

Also, last post I said that the other stories from that particular day's workshop were 'ok.' I do not mean that in a offensive way, though it is a vague word, I suppose. The stories were written well, I think. They seemed crafted well. I think my saying 'ok' there was more to describe how my taste affected my reading of them.