In which I talk about (or at least touch on in a couple words):
- Trying desperately not to become a writer and failing.
- Why coming to Oklahoma didn’t sound like punishment.
- How certain hobbies inform my writing.
- Dealing with the international travels of my wife through application-mania.
- The inherent privilege of teaching*.
*Although teaching is inherently a privilege, and I am inspired by my students on a daily basis, and, as with writing, I am not sure I could stop myself from being a teacher even if I tried, I would be remiss not to note, in solidarity with public educators, the current state of Oklahoma public teachers as the poorest paid in the nation.
The piece, like “Worry,” was very personal and very easy to write. I wrote it to process and in some ways escape the death of my dog (the handsome fella to the right). It just flowed out. After it was done, I was reminded of the sheer biological necessity of my writing. This catharsis was vital. I knew I’d done it right when, after the rush of writing and editing and submitting, I felt scooped out and empty. I’d been excavated. For several days, I lay on the couch and could do nothing. It hurt and was numb and felt good all at once.
Dan Musgrave 