What I see: “Listen to this!” one says. They sit on the grass in pairs, the listener leans forward, as eager as the reader. What I hear: silence of writing, pen on paper (or fingers on keyboard) in a room whose air is electric; pause to think and re-think; draft after draft. What I remember: a letter from a parent, afterward--“She’s flying!” YWW is a moment out of time, the past re-discovered as material for art, the future adumbrated--what it is to be a writer, to be dedicated, to form a living community--wisdom to last a life through.
YWW Teaching Fiction Writer