Grand Army Plaza Epiphanies

Inspiration comes from a book passed between colleagues across departments from different generations that makes their lives seem so potentially similar.

The gesture is what most effects me and hours later. After the unreal explosions at the Boston Marathon, after the exhausted train ride home, after lecturing my insolent dog who had once again dispersed the contents of my trash all over the floor, after life's evening activities and outside with the dog near the arch in plaza, on the grass by the fountain that is still seasonally dry. The epiphany comes in the form of a rough draft.

It's been coming, really. For weeks now. However, I've been saying I'm not going to go out and recruit youth this time, I'll just see if they contact me. What's egging me on to continue is that which remains undone: an incomplete feeling like an invisible stone in a hiking boot that reminds me that what I set out to do is not done. An event organized by youth. A print publication.

The team that currently comprises Raw Fiction has established a concept, created a slogan, set a tone, called for submissions, designed a logo and website and read and written and are reading and writing. Bickety-bam. They've done this pretty much from scratch with the support of mentors. That's impressive, I could call this project a day and feel really good about what's been accomplished.

However, I also think about the imperfections in this first template and the revisions I could implement the next time. I think about how to make Raw Fiction bigger and better. I'm procrastinating on the formation of evaluations and how to perfect the mentor trainings and I can see that I am capable of improving upon the initial concept, I can see clearly many possible repairs. And that's where I get overwhelmed and want to run away. Because I can't do all that unless I can give myself a salary. And I can't get a salary unless I apply for a grant. And I think about all the work I'd have to do and I want to vanish up a tree like a lunatic or a baron. What it finally comes down to is the most important question on the evaluation: Are you glad you participated in this project? I know the answers.

And what would my answer be?

I love creating space that brings people together. At my last event all of the readers exchanged information and became Facebook friends. The space was filled with love. The energy was fantastic. I love meeting with my youth and giving them literary works that they don't really like right now but will impact them later. I love sitting back and watching them collaborate. I don't like writing grants all that much, I don't hate it but I don't like the language.

There is no sublime meaning in a mission statement. I take no pleasure in getting to a point quickly.

So, what I've decided is that I want to continue but next time I'll do less. How about that, Society. I'm going to aim to recruit young writers who want to build upon what the current group has established to either coordinate an event or create a print publication or do both. I want to coordinate a regular meeting space to allow for intellectual growth and proactive collaboration. That's what I enjoy doing and I don't have to give it up because I am done with fundraising. I think it was important to do the first round of Raw Fiction "legitimately." Perhaps, I had something to prove to myself. Receiving fiscal sponsorship and a grant has made me feel like my idea was legitimate. To receive generous donations from family, friends and strangers is really reaffirming but I want to go to grad school and I want to write another novel, not another grant. I don't want to be an ED I just want to be me, hehehe.

In the mailroom, Kevin gave me a copy of the journal he edited in another lifetime, his words, it is called "murmur." It's a wonderful collection with J.M.G. Le Clezio, Danzy Senna, Eileen Myles and Mark Jay Mirsky, among others. The concept is "a journal devoted to convening conversations between new and established writers of fiction and poetry, and each issue will feature a series of these dialogues. The themes and topics will be determined by those involved, but at some point, the talks will address the question of who and what influences their writing. Following the discussion, work by both authors will appear side by side, as if to continue the conversation in the practice of their art." - Kevin P.Q. Phelan, Editor.

The gift was Kevin's second journal. The first was called "whatever" because it was themeless. Having worked with my current group of youth I think the themeless is essential to creative development. Youth don't really know what they want; they want experience and opportunities. I thanked my colleague for his awesome journal and he explained it stopped because money ran out. It was those words that really got me thinking about Raw Fiction. Yes, there's no way I can afford to keep it going, it's not what I want. But what if I do it without money, or much less money. Cut the stipends, cut the mentors, cut the field trips to things with ticket prices.

So, thank you, Kevin for sharing the past of another you with the present I'm chiseling out for myself. I will go on until time and money run out, and that is yet to happen.