The Usual Chaos

I've seen it today.  The noses buried in pages of a fantasy land, an adventurous journey, or a love-struck moment.  The pens spewing ink and words and life so fast that clocks seem to skip.  The heads, sideways-cocked, thinking.  And thinking.  And thinking.  The wheels really are turning. It's been workshop week in English III.  Students are revising an argumentative research essay over - of course- censorship and books!  They asked interesting questions and searched for answers.  Passion grew in them as if almost cancerous, consuming. Secondly, students are writing from their hearts.  The additional writing piece is a personal one.  They are free to select their intended emotion they want to convey.  They are free to select the angle - one book, all books, censorship in general, themselves as readers.  And, they are free to select the form.  Thus far, we have letters, speeches, narratives, editorials, poems, Twitter feeds, Instagram posts, and even a survey with a written r

I've been writing since summer 2014.  Again.  I wrote in late high school, bits of college, and remnants of early adulthood.  Then, alas, life happened.  Really, mostly, kids.  It was the game changer they said it would be.  Then, I heard Penny Kittle.  Another game changer.  She spoke to my soul and articulated all the ideas and emotions and convictions floating helplessly in my head and heart for so long.  Now, because of her, I write again. Since, there have been countless times when I am struck by the urge to put words down.  To somehow describe the indescribable.  Occasionally, I have written something I kinda liked!  Other pieces I have repeatedly returned to with despair.  Trying to write the words fitting for the love of my life, for example, has not yet worked out.  More tears than words seem to flow, especially when combined with thoughts of our children.  Those words are stuck in the revision process, looping.  Yet, I persist.  I want to do this.  I want to show my stu