this morning i took miles away from a playground full of his buddies, chasing each other around aggressively under a blue sky--to attend a writer's workshop. so proud of my once so anxious boy. he sat with a bunch of 8-10 year-old writers of all shapes and sizes around a big wooden table and said "no way" when i asked if it was ok to leave--but said it smiling. so for two hours i sat in the cozy corner at 826 valencia with a big coffee and read a collection of memoirs written by incarcerated women in writer's workshops taught by wally lamb.
the workshop is called "diary of a young whale" and i tuned in now and then to hear the kids asking and answering questions about predators, decomposers, prey, producers. two hours of brainstorming and writing, to be repeated next sunday with a finished product of some sort that will be typed up and published in a chapbook. anyone remember those? i had to drag miles out of there and he took his paper home to work on. he asked me to read it aloud in the car several times as we drove to carl and ellie's house and then counted the little blue lines. it is about a lump of dirt named bumper who lives in hawaii. now he wants to be a writer and an athlete.
826 valencia is the brainchild of dave eggers, and full of pirate gear, tourists, a beautiful aquarium with a blowfish that can be viewed in a tiny tiny dark theater with two theater chairs, and eager earnest writers who want to help kids find their voices. there are lots of anthologies written by local kids, and by local adults. being there made me want to go home and write--i used to want to be a writer, too.
we went to carl and ellie's and met india for the first time. her big eyes are an almost metal grey, amazing curly hair and tiny doll hands. she feel asleep in my arms, all peace and trust.
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