Epilogue

1:00 a.m., eastern standard time. Home after a stop-off at mom's house, for mission debriefing. Among everything else, the cats were anxious to see me.

I sit here, freezing in my Clarion South tshirt, riding the fumes of 6 hours' sleep across 72 hours. A Clarion South yearbook sits on my floor, with some of the nicest things friends have ever told me. Junkmail overflows from my garbage pail, which is indistinguishable from the tornado farm appearance of my bedroom floor. My family is sick with winter-ish sickness.

There's so much to do. Arts Crossing needs maintenance. My international writers' mail house needs building. I need some more immediate way to make money. And, of course, stories need to be written.

16 names. A billion memories. One oath.

The Final Chapter, part 2

Last night, I continued to knock heads at Mafia with my "patternlessness." I won the first game as a final round villager, and in the last game as a mafioso, I very nearly wiped out the entire village, until at the last second, I was lynched. How perfect that would have been...


But this morning, my patternlessness totally broke. I lost it in the classroom. We all had to give a farewell speech at the end of our last crit, and I said all the good things that I wrote in my last post, more or less. Then, my face went to pieces. I had to keep looking down and bending toward my sneakers to wipe my eyes and nose, and doodling furiously in my notebook just to stop from crying even harder.

Fuck. I can't remember the last time I cried in public like that.

In that respect, though, I wasn't alone. We all supported each other, as I hope we continue to do over long distance.

Clarion South: the final chapter (2/15)

As I've mentioned, I've made some of the best friends here that I've made anywhere, anytime during my life. I've had continual luck in terms of the responses to my writing, received only one major critical assraping (week 5), which I took gracefully and professionally. I recovered my reputation nicely during this final week. I haven't had time to implement the advice I've been offered here yet, but that should come as I start revising. Some of my classmates improved tremendously from week 1 to week 6. I don't feel that was the case for me, at least not yet, but I do feel like I've improved as I normally would with this amount of intense practice. One classmate referred to me as a "watchmaker", the way I methodically and meticulously cracked out stories that didn't read like first drafts, and that could be the reason why I feel like I haven't "grown" as much as some others.

But, yeah. I loved the whole thing. Maybe more than I've loved any life experience.

I'm also very glad to be going home, if only because the work load will end. Every bit of it was exhilirating, but man...I'm burned out. I'll also get to catch up on Heroes, season 2, which has been taped for me. And I need to get back on the ball with Arts Crossing.

The nice girl from the staffing agency has been keeping in touch by e-mail, and she might have a job interview for me. I really need to hibernate for a few days, though. Clarion burnout + jetlag != interview-savvy Michael.

A shout out to all Clarion colleagues who stumble across this, especially floor 3. You guys are my new family (or at least, extra family), and long distance won't change that. For ever after, I will be The Patternless Man.

Lord of the Flies, indeed (Monday, 2/12)

Today, things finally got feral. A fight broke out in the crit room, and two good friends are now at each others' throats. Comments were taken way out of proportion to their intention, though I can see why it happened; it was simply the wrong time and place. The stress is finally taking its toll. I offered to talk to one on behalf of the other. Declined. I have the urge to mediate and ask another one of my mediator-type apartment mates for backup, if these two don't smooth things over by tomorrow.


[later]: okay, looks like everything is cool again. Whew.

week 5

The Patternless Man battles fatigue, sleeplessness and sickness in his attempt to crack out a week 5 story that people will generally like.
The Patternless Man fails. On the scoreboard where a decent response gets half a point and a mostly positive response gets a full point, we now have:
Michael: 3 betterlucknexttime: 1.5
Week 6 will be decisive. I've got a reputation to recover, and an "M. Night Shyamalan" slope of decline to avoid.

halfway mark

So, we've passed ze halfway point of ze Clarion South. This weekend I got all dressed up for the Aurealis award, and learned that I still suck at talking to people in schmooze-for-all environments. Towards the end, someone asked me for my thoughts. I said "I'll gather my thoughts and explain later", but I very much wanted to explain to her that I had a social kryptonite belt on. These kind of things get me the reputation of being "stand-offish", when deep down I'm wishing people would just take one glance inside me and see that I'm not that way at all, that I really do want to come out and play.

It's all good, though. I handed in story #4, and I think it may be my turn to end up with multi-ringed spank prints on my arse before 1:30pm tomorrow. To top it off, I have a one-on-one session with Gardner Dozois (yes, the one and only). What am I going to say to Gardner Dozois without doing the whole "we're not worthy!" act? (more to the point -- what's he going to say to me?). But if nothing else, this will give me a chance to take a panning gracefully.

My floor continues to be awesome. We eat together, have random midnight chats together, we're civil, and we remain intact amidst rising tension and frustration among the clarionites. And yes, there is rising tension and frustration. I keep my half-grin and outer confidence about my writing, but I'm feeling the burnout as much as my colleagues.

Good night, and good luck.

I guess I am one of the luckier ones so far at Clarion. I've been having more or less a sweet ride through the crits and responses. That could change any week, though. I think the sheer self-confidence in my writing helps me produce decent works in 7 days or less.

Yesterday I had one of the most personal stories I've ever written highly praised by almost everyone in class, then ripped to shreds by the tutor. Yet it bounced right off me. Looks like that thick skin is finally growing, though there's no way of telling what's in store for weeks 4-6. I could very well be facing what some of my poor colleagues are going through now, emotionally.