Delayed Gratification

Many moons ago I received a grant from my old school to write about middle school life with a favorite colleague. We take middle school seriously. It’s not the age to survive or get through but instead a complicated root system that requires attention and diligence and time, time, time.

So it’s funny that writing about it took a similar level of delayed gratification.

My colleague is a well-respected Chicago Blues musician. Yes, while most of us try to eek out one career, he has two. He’s also a brilliant chef. And a great writer and a great pal. Scheduling writing was hard. We received the grant in spring 2010. That summer I was living in Iceland for a month (you can read about it here) and he was be-bopping all over the place. We figured out ways to write together using every Google thing imaginable (which I explored here). Had Google Teleport been an option we would’ve tried that. We got a good base and then were slammed with typical start of school insanity (note: I spent the first week of every school year for a decade wondering how the hell to teach). Things settled down and then I let on that I was, ahem, many months pregnant. So we edited when we could as fast as we could. Baby came, baaaaaam, life is totally different. Time moves at a different pace. Things like focusing and paying attention are tasks unimaginable at times.

But we pulled it together, had our piece peer edited. And edited. And edited again.

And today! Today I saw this:

See that?
No? ZOOM IN.

On page 73? That’s me.

I’m published!


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