from the diary: “Wednesday 5/27/87
“In Creative Writing Marty handed out five poems; we critiqued all five in the hour. One was my poem, “Heat”. No one said anything negative about it. Not even Marty. Pooh. I kept waiting for a criticism, hoping for a criticism (cuz I know the damn thing ain’t perfect) but it was just good stuff. Just good.”
5/31: “Did another language study today.”
6/3: “Finished four language studies for Creative Writing. The two I turned in today and the ones I turned in before. … In lieu of a Final we all gots to meet wit’ [Emblen] for twenty min.s.”
6/9: “This morning I had my twenty minute conference with Don Emblen. I almost forgot to go. It was actually rather pleasant. He commended me on my level of production, my rewrites, my reading cards. Said my language studies came in a bit late. But he saw no problem with giving me an A. Thought I’d done solid A work. We talked some about sign language.
“‘Did [that professor] like that critique on his Zach the Dead Dog poem?’ Yes, sez Don, he was pleased to receive it. But has he done anything with the poem? Not so far as Don knows. … Emblen asked me if there were anything about the class I thought should be changed. I couldn’t think of anything at that moment.
“I turned in over 460 lines of poetry.”
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