End of Semester Celebration Zombies
I'm not undead, just tired
“It is a truth universally acknowledged that a zombie in possession of brains must be in want of more brains.” ― Seth Grahame-Smith, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies
I am not writing about literal zombies this week, but I did turn on Night of the Living Dead one day this week while grading. You know, for background noise.
Since it is Final Exam Week, I’m thinking about how much I feel like a zombie at the end of the semester. And what a semester it has been! If you missed my last post about Imposter Syndrome, I wrote a little about what’s been going on with my job this semester. It’s been rough, to say the least.
But there have been a lot of good things—really, really outstanding things—to celebrate, too. I’m going to use this week’s newsletter to celebrate if you don’t mind. I hope you are celebrating some small (or big) joys, too. Tell me about the joyful stuff in the comments or send me an email! Writing can feel really isolating and I know I’m not out here alone.
These are the things I’m celebrating this semester
1. Writing!
After taking a long break (at the beginning of the pandemic) from writing, I am absolutely going to celebrate writing again. I joined Substack this semester and started Mourning Pages, a writing “project” that brings me serious joy. I also began working on my novel-in-progress again.
As a writer who makes sense of the world through words, I hadn’t realized how much I counted on writing for my mental health. I’ve got a little more “free” time now and a fresh perspective. Not to get too sentimental, but if you’ve got something in your life that helps you breathe, don’t forget to keep doing it.
2. Creative Recovery
I’ve written a few times lately about The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, which I finally finished this week. Cameron’s “spiritual path” to creative recovery has been a real journey.
I read this book with a student, one chapter each week all semester, and it resulted in Mourning Pages (and Morning Pages) so I can’t complain about it too much. But I also struggled so much with the language in the book. I struggled with the idea of recovering something I didn’t think I had lost.
I’m celebrating this book anyway. It’s part of my silo.
As George Saunders (who you know I love) says, “What we’re doing is adding these stories we’re reading, plus our attempts to analyze them, into our personal silo. Someday (according to me) when we’re struggling with an artistic problem, the contents of our silo will be there, to subtly inform our solution.”
Here’s the whole post if you want to read more about his silo theory:
3. Teaching
I taught in the classroom this semester for the first time since March 2020. Online classes and my new position at the college were keeping me behind a desk and in front of a computer. Teaching again in person, while terrifying at first, forced me (literally) out of my chair.
It didn’t hurt that my class was Intro to Creative Writing. Every Wednesday, I got to talk about what I love most. Two years ago, this might not have felt like something worth celebrating, but here we are.
And I’ve landed on gratitude. I am so fortunate to be healthy, for my family to be healthy. I still have a my job and, despite all the challenges, I still have hope for the future.
Well, this newsletter started out with a zombie photo and I expected it would go in a completely different direction. My usual self-deprecating humor and end-of-semester complaints were supposed to be the shining star. Instead, you’ve got Hopeful Penny. Go figure!
Now, I’m off to listen to zombie movies while I finish grading. Celebrate with me by sharing Mourning Pages if you can. I am one subscriber shy of 100 and my need for an arbitrary milestone is big right now. Thank you for being here.
Note: I’m an affiliate of Bookshop.org and earn a commission if you click through and make a purchase.
Help wanted! I’m planning to expand the newsletter this summer with guest posts and interviews from writers, teachers, parents, and anyone interested in talking about the subjects of this newsletter: grief and loss, but also writing and reading.
If you’re interested, please reach out!