Greetings, it has been more than a year since my last confessional.
In December 2007, soon after posting up the sad novel excerpt posted below, I began a two-year MFA creative writing program at Antioch University L.A. Challenging, and obviously much needed in terms of my own craft. Still, the current state of the economy means that the publishing world is not what it once was, and my two-year graduate education may boil down to an expensive self-improvement project, like elocution lessons. I hold out the hope that with Obama now in the White House and placing a renewed emphasis on higher education, I might be a little ahead of the curve, and a warm and cozy teaching post awaits me at some fab university when the stampede to academia really gets going. I'm optimistic that I will get over the humps of my final manuscript and a teaching seminar to graduate this December.
A propos of nothing, I was just on the street in West LA and saw a crowd of red-bereted dudes: black pants, army boots, red and white T-shirts. Guardian Angels! My God, I have not seen Guardian Angels since the early '80s in the subways of New York, when their controversial presence and outspoken leader Curtis Sliwa divided city opinion. Taking back the streets from criminals, or a group of vigilantes? That was the question back then. But when I was riding the subways through the Bronx and Manhattan at all hours, those red berets were a welcome sight, let me tell you. Seeing a group of them just now on Sawtelle and Olympic brought back memories.
