Thank you, Robin Metz

I wasted away so much time in college.  I went to Knox College from 1969 to 1973, the ripe college campus counter culture years, at least at Knox, and I had a lot of counter culture fun. And once I figured out the professors had become so radical about the Vietnam War that they wouldn’t flunk me and take away my student deferment, I stopped going to class and had even more fun.

So I played soccer, and I partied, and I wasted so much precious opportunity.

But there was one opportunity I did respect, that I cherished even, which was attending every Creative Writing class I could with Robin Metz. All by itself the time I spent with Robin could very well redeem those college years.

Robin arrived at Knox in his mid-20’s with his brand new MFA from The Writer’s Workshop at the University of Iowa, after playing football as an undergrad at Princeton–in high school, in the Pittsburgh steel mill heydays, he played football against Mike Ditka.

He quickly became a very popular professor for the best reasons–he was determined to help his students grow, to flourish even. He approached my first short stories about my times guiding with tough minded respect–he found an authentic voice in the stories as he showed me that I was explaining what I should be portraying.  Toward the end of my time there he began treating me as a colleague, and his confidence in my talent was my singular success as a writer.

Robin was an acclaimed short story writer when I was his student, and later became a renowned poet. A collection of his poetry, Unbidden Angel, was Nominated for the Guardian of London Book of the Year Award and won the Rainer Maria Rilke International Poetry Prize in 2000.  He has been American Poet in Residence in Nepal, India, and Kosvo.

Ain’t that’s about the coolest thing one could do, be the Poet in Residence in Nepal?

Robin and I have stayed in touch. He and his wife Elizabeth Carlin Metz are the producer and director of the Vitalist Theater in Chicago, and they adapted Anung for the stage and gave is a  six week run four years ago.

He still teaches at Knox.  In fact my youngest daughter, Krista Anne, took three or four classes with him.  We all love him, and I appreciate the chance to tell all I can that he has served the world with grace and humor and I am one of many ever in his debt.

My Three Daughters.

I feel so fortunate that I  will have two novels published this year, The 53rd Parallel in early May, and Anung in August. And it’s a greater delight to have my three daughters involved in this work with me.  

My eldest, Sarah Rose, is a poet who will have her first book of poetry published this year. Best Bones won the 2013 Agnes Lynch Starrett Poetry Prize and will be published by the University of Pittsburgh Press.   With her permission I have included some of the lines from her poetry in The 53rd Parallel.  She also built this website for me.  

And just last week it was decided by the publisher that Brita, the second oldest, a talented designer and artisan, is to be the illustrator for Anung. Brita had previously contributed design elements to the stage play based on Anung produced by the Vitalist Theater in Chicago three years ago.  (3/30/14 addition–the early sketches delivered today and they look great)

My third daughter, Krista Anne, is a very talented short story writer who is focusing on her entrepreneurial interests these days.  She’s been helping me figure out how to be the social media promoter of my work that an author needs to be.

About 20 years ago I was driving down a backwoods road, listening to country music, thinking about my three girls, when I had to pull over to the side of the road to write down these lyrics for a song that was coming to me fast and fully formed.  This is almost exactly what I wrote as I heard a country tune in my head.  It was easy to find it’s title.

I Got Three Girls, Wish I Had Seven

I got three girls, wish I had seven, because each one’s as lovely as can be

When they come home, from their adventures, it’s in my arms they want to be

They like to stroll, out in the meadow, blossoms and birdsong is where they’ll be

Their eyes’ll sparkle, with their wonder, I love the way they reflect on me

I got three girls, wish I had seven, because it’s magic when they dance

They kick their heals, their hair a’flowing, they dare young men to take a chance

I’ve tuned my life, to their sweet music, they make it with a joyful heart

It wraps me to, their precious Momma, one melody, each plays a part

I got three girls, wish I had seven, ’cause they taught me all I know

About the secret to a good life.  You’ll reap love, when love you sew.

I got three girls, wish I had seven, ’cause I just want more of their delight

I got three girls, wish I has seven, the world shines brighter in their light.

One more time.

I love rock music.  There are few I envy but near the top of the list is the front man of a hard rocking band who calls out “One more time” because he feels how much the boys behind him want to hit it again.

Well, I get to hit it again.

Just when I thought my work on ‘The 53rd Parallel‘ was over as a writer of it, I discover I have a final author’s duty to take a close read of the ARC preview edition, the novel published as a book for the first time. ARC’s are printed in very limited numbers for two purposes–as an Advanced Reader Copy to garner reviews, and to be read for last chance edits to improve a sentence or correct a layout error.

I have been teaching creativity and entrepreneurship to Duke undergrads for 12 years and we spend lots of time exploring the impact that shifting perspectives will have on an idea or opportunity.  They learn that they will see the patterns of an opportunity emerging differently if they are part of a mainstream view or if they take an outsiders view.

I anticipate the reading of these stories I have written and read so many times over the years will often sound different to my ear when read in an actual book, rather than on a computer screen in a Word doc.

And so, with energy, “One more time”.