Blogagaard As Teaching Artist

Well, tonight's my first class at the Loft. I suppose it's too late to back out and run screaming into the foggy moor-my class is at near capacity, and I've made copies.

Copies, people. Like a teacher makes. With a copy machine. A copier, as they call it.

Jesus Christ! I must be old now. Old enough to take roll, anyhow. To call out a list of names and make check marks. To offer advice on a subject, to possibly instruct! How did it come to this? This isn't my beautiful red pen, this isn't my beautiful one-bedroom Midway apartment...wait, I guess it is.

Hell.

There is water at the bottom of the ocean...

Writing Exercise: The Bounty Hunter

You're a bounty hunter tracking down a murderer. You are on foot and alone. You follow your prey into a major city dump. Describe your search through the mountains of trash, remembering to use all 5 sensory details.

Stop writing when you reach your prey.