Praying for Sheetrock

Or drywall, as the case may be:

Yeah, baby.  It's looking good.  Walls.

Everything's seriously under construction right now, including the manuscript of THE DESIRE PROJECTS.  Revising most mornings before work gets started has been a lifesaver; today, I hit page 332, so there are only about 40 more pages to go.  Then I'll put down my pen and start putting in the changes electronically.  Then we shall see.

I'm psyched about the offer for ISLAND OF BONES, the essay collection, but the contract is still under negotiation, so I'll restrain myself and be discreet.  I can't wait to announce it, though.  I'm very excited.  I'm really proud of those essays.  Did I tell you that the editor of Fourth Genre nominated "Grip" for a Pushcart?  (I know, I know:  lots of things get nominated for Pushcarts.  Still, I'm excited.) 

Speaking of really proud, my hat is all the way off to emily danforth, one of our Ph.D. students here at UNL, who just got a contract (and a serious advance--I mean like amazing, I mean like way better than lots of my professional-writer friends get) from HarperCollins for her first novel. 

Can you imagine still being in grad school and having achieved that?  Damn.  In grad school, I was still figuring out which fork to use.

Tomorrow's the last day of classes, and I'll be picking up 30 papers from my women's lit students, which I'm actually pretty psyched about reading.  This evening, I meet with my four graduate teaching interns to wrap up the semester.  And my nature writing workshop is winding down, too.  Grades are due in early May. 

It's the denouement, the un-knotting. 

And then comes the reason any writer takes an academic gig:  Summer.  Peace, solitude.  The pen, the paper.

That's this character's motivation, let me tell you.   And then we'll see what gets built.