I just survived my first year at grad school! I'd break out the chocolate and cider Martinelli's just for that, but I am especially excited to have more time for writing the next few months . . and terrified. Thoughts become wild ink thickets when imagination is given free play in the mind and it's my job to turn them into well-ordered groves. I confess, sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have quiet space in the head--no characters vying for attention, no dragons distracting me from scholarly papers on theory or unit planning.
Quiet time is overrated, and dragons? Always welcome.
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