Teaching Writing

This week I began teaching my Winter 2008 college course. I have three groups - 82 students overall. Sometimes school seems like a fraud, so I try to share things with them that I find authentic. So far we're off to a good start with a discussion of fiction and non-fiction and the fine line between. Also, regarding the spectrum of writing from objective to subjective, I told them that I didn't think any writing could be totally objective. Even if the writer sticks to facts, they still choose what to say and what not to say in the same way that a photographer chooses what to include in a picture. Cropping, editing, it's all the same. We focus the reader or viewer's eye on what we want them to see.

I'm excited about getting them to write their own creative non-fiction. I don't think anybody can say it's not a valuable experience to take material from your life and craft it into a story. Hopefully, we'll have time for the oral tradition of storytelling as well.

Note this beginning-of-term enthusiasm which will surely pass to "oh shit - do I have to get those midterm marks in already?" followed by "why did I think I could mark so much stuff?" and ending with "oh my god, why am I so exhausted?" And then it will be summer.

My New Jacket

I have a new winter jacket - a red, Arc'teryx one that is really warm, but not too bulky. Suddenly, I love winter, especially days like today - cold enough that the snow is powdery and light with no trace of dampness, and the sky is blue and calm, not windy. This will be great when I am waiting for Morgane's school bus. Today she wanted me to wait far away; she wanted to do it by herself. My big girl.

Windy

The wind is tossing everybody's recycling into the street. And not just in Laval and Montreal, but also in Toronto. And near Kingston, the power has gone out. I know this because today I am taking part in my on-line course. Seven of us, from across Canada, are chatting on the forum. Haven't heard from the Westerners in Edmonton and Banff yet since it's still early there.

It's hard to be original wtihout making a typo

I just accidentally typed in wandering and pondering instead of pondering and wandering and there is already a blog with this name and it's older than mine. It's hard to be original unless you're a really bad speller or typist.

Chocolate

I love this time of year. Not only does my birthday come shortly after the Christmas season, but Laura Secord Christmas chocolate goes on sale at 75% off. New Year's Resolutions? Maybe I should stop buying more books than I seem able to read. And more chocolate than I can reasonably eat. And the same for Morgane. I should stop buying her more books than we can read together and stop giving her so much chocolate so she stops thinking it's one of the major food groups.

Rain, rain, snow away

It's raining outside and part of me is happy that it's not so cold and I don't need to be all bundled up with long underwear, scarf, hat, mitts, extra sweater... The other part is sad because it's only January and winter is far from over, so I should try to remain enthusiastic about snowshoeing and skating and... long underwear. Even Morgane, who lives to eat snow and icicles, recently asked me if people had to wear jackets in the spring.

Burlington and Back Home Again

Burlington was beautiful on New Year's Eve. I love walking up and down car-free Church Street. But now we are home and it's cold, -20 Celsuis at best. It's Ghis's first day back at work, but Morgane and I are still off. She's ready to go back to school and I already have work I should do, so it's kind of a reluctant holiday today. We'll get some food in the house after being away. On days like this I need to make a priority list or else I'll just flit around from one thing to another and feel like I haven't done a thing.

I have a new book called Living Artfully by SAndra Magsamen and she talks about incorporating art and self-expression into everyday life. Make your food into a face. Decorate your home with things you love. Collect rocks and paint them with your kids.