Lesley Residency 3.2

My Lesley pals asked to hear about what went wrong for me this semester and I told them. Earlier in the day I suffered two brief panic attacks when thinking about the enormity of what I’m trying to do. It was a great day, but a rough one. I’m glad there were people around to keep me company and to talk to during these dark times. I’m glad that they were there to make me laugh, which made for a mostly wonderful day.

These journal entries are drivel, aren’t they? Oh well. I don’t care.

We had our standard welcoming/read-in/what it’s like to be a writer conference this morning and then we broke into groups by the number of semesters students had been in the program. Us third-semester students got to engage in an interesting seminar called Shaping the Book, where we discussed the decisions regarding structure made by Frank Conroy in Stop Time and Jane Kenyon in The Boat of Quiet Hours.

After that we broke for lunch and then met with our faculty mentors. I met with my new mentor for the semester, Tony, and we discussed what I might read this semester based on the assumption that I would probably be continuing to work on the novel I started. Tony had some interesting suggestions and from our little meeting, I think we’re going to work out well as a mentor-pupil team.

Talking in the quad with various peoples and then a walk to Harvard Square in the off and on rain and then dinner and then superb readings by Michael Lowenthal and Rachel Kadish and then drinking at the Cambridge Commons.

And now this.