As I go barreling (thanks, coffee) toward the end of my first year of graduate school (two classes, one portfolio, and an exam to go)...
I can't help but to pause and reflect on all I've accomplished over the last ten months.
Pound a Barrel with a Mallet!
Helping students in the Writing Center became one of my favorite activities. It was extremely rewarding to watch someone come up with an idea or tell me later how they did on an essay.
I've written an annotated bibliography over a gaggle of composition theory books AND a more than 15-page paper based in said theory.
I created a Creative Writing teaching portfolio, complete with a syllabus, writing exercises, and lesson plan(s).
More of my work has been workshopped and scrutinized by classmates and professors--not a single tear was shed during the process (we'll work on after, later).
Completing 18 hours of graduate level credits makes me eligible to work as a teaching fellow in several states...and I'm only half-nervous about the prospect now...and the more confidence I have, the better--I start teaching Comp I in the Fall.
Stories have been sent out (and almost all rejected), but just knowing that my own work is being read by strangers is thrilling enough to keep me on task.
I went to Washington D.C. for AWP!
Reading literary criticism is getting easier, especially that related to Flannery O'Connor and the South. I'm catching phantom references to her work--and making my own unique observations.
Having an idea for my own creative thesis, a collection of related short stories based on a story I wrote last semester. What? I actually have an idea for my first collection?
It sounds as if I may have this thing figured out....as long as I continue to jump, dodge, and pound the hell out of the obstacles thrown in my way!
SUPER MALLET, activate!