I have learned that I was on the short list for a major teaching position: an endowed "chair in contemporary American letters." Don't get excited about congratulating me because I wasn't a finalist. Still, it felt good to make the short list--to know that there really are a few places out there that don't judge a candidate by her degree. This search committee took my application seriously, even though I don't have a single graduate credit to my name. I don't need to tell you how rare that attitude is in the academic world. So even though I wasn't offered this position, I am feeling revitalized. Spring is coming, even to snow-besieged Maine. A university English department took me seriously as a professional. The cover of Same Old Story makes me happy. I'm might have figured out how to salvage the awful poem I've been trying to write.
However, I still can't get the car out of the driveway.