Yes, I am here, buried under stacks of paper that mark the end of the semester. I went from coming back from the conference excited to do research, to being overwhelmed with teaching. Funny, that. It’s hard enough having what amounts to more than one full-time job but then there are times, like the end of the semester, when I have to ignore the research in favor of the teaching. Or before conferences where I give papers and the situation is reversed and all I do is write. Yeah, sure, like I posted before there are those people who manage to write every day, but so far I ain’t one of them.  Perhaps Alpha, my new iMac, will help me get into a good writing space, I don’t know.

On other fronts, things are good, Willa is bigger than ever, and we’re going back to CO for a few days over Christmas (just a few, I have that damn book to write, classes to plan, yah yah). I wheedled my Christmas gift out of Chris early and it is a gorgeous Thomas Mann necklace that I have hanging here in the office to look at — more art than jewelry and bigger than what I usually wear and completely fascinating. Can I be the kind of person to pull off a big necklace? Do I have the cojones?

Am also reading like paper is going out of style and watching tons of junk tv. Hibernation, except for trips to the dog park, has set in.

So I am sitting in this workshop on scholarly writing and writing for grants. What is interesting to me is thinking about writing again like as a student — the things that help us write and how to ease the process. Writing often is a block to me, rather than a tool, as in I focus too much on the results and how well the end piece turns out when what I am really doing is learning a process that extends and enriches my thinking. What this needs is sustained attention and time where I focus only on the writing and the thinking, though, and I am always running short of that. Yet I think I choose to run short of time, sometimes, worried that I can’t write well or what I want to do won’t work, or that I don’t have anything to contribute. It’s easier to focus on the short-term things I can do more easily than the big ambiguous things that put some part of me or my professional life on the line.

I am one of those people who like Christmas music. There, I’ve said it. I think the Vince Guaraldi trio’s Charlie Brown Christmas album is stellar. Sarah McLaughlin’s new one is good too. When I am buried in work (and God knows, you should see my desk — and the floor and the shelves and pretty much my entire office) at this time of year, something about carols sung well just keeps me from going beserk. Mostly.

Am now back from a week in LA, presenting and listening (and learning) at the National Reading Conference. The best thing about conferences is the connections you can make — seeing good friends again, and talking through new ideas and existing research. The very best are those conversations that happen informally (all right, all right — often in the hotel bar) when we’ve all had a chance to digest the many things we’ve seen. And even better, I realize how lucky I am to have friends from all over the country. We threw quite a party one night in honor of technology and literacy that made new friends all over the place. I saw many people I miss seeing more regularly and set to rest some old ghosts. So a bit of shouting out, namely –

• Congratulations to Ruby on her engagement to a good guy who gave her a stellar ring
• Thanks to Gloria for being a great roommate and co-host of the cocktail party at the end of the hall, and cheers to her first NRC
• Laurie, Sarah, Julie — you’re so close and I was so very impressed with your papers and thinking. Our field is in good shape with people like you coming into it — and I’m excited to see what happens next for you and all of us
• As always thanks to Chuck and Don and Kevin for all your support and thoughts and funny notes at the right times in the sessions

There will be another conference before too long and the high on this one will last for a while. I’ve got all kinds of new ideas to play with. *grin*