There is so much that I want to say about this new residency that I’m teaching over at Columbia Heights High School, but it will have to wait. There is nothing on earth more exhilarating than teaching fiction to teenagers. And there are few things more exhausting. Last night, I attempted to tell Leo a story (“from your imagination, mama, from your imagination” he insists. So demanding, that child). As I laid down in the dark, his small body curled next to mine, the yeasty smell of his skin clouding the darkness, I yawned, managed to spit out a “once upon a time” and thereupon fell fast asleep. Ted woke me up at midnight and ushered me back to my own bed. I’m pretty sure I brushed my teeth, but really, who’s to say.
Soon, I promise, will be the complete breakdown of the residency, replete with observations on its impact on my own writing. I promise.