Word After Word

Abigail Thomas writes in Safekeeping, about her own self teaching writing, “She is a writer and she teaches writing. Well, not teaches writing because you can’t do that, but you can certainly locate the interesting, you can go over the page with sand-papered fingertips and say, Here, what is really going on here, and if you’re lucky the writer blushes and says, Oh, I thought I could just skip over that part, which means you have discovered a gold mine, and you say, No, sorry, you’re going to have to write it.

You can point out the promising. You can encourage and allow and permit and make possible. She gives assignments so nobody has to face the blank page alone….

Nothing goes to waste.”

This is the way I want to teach this week.  This is a great teaching tuning fork passage.

What’s hard is there are so many writing students–there are too many. My fingertips are smooth from so much reading.  I have to keep them tuned, sandpapery. This requires more reading. My own writing. More baths.

Abigail Thomas teaching is like a great sofa teaching. I’m feeling like a fork. An aluminum fork teaching. I’m griping. I’m grating.  Why can’t they staple? why can’t they label?