Thanks to Jennifer Bullis for tagging me in this Blog Hop. I could not have chosen a busier week of the quarter — two new sets of papers waiting to be graded, a new lesson to plan, a teaching retreat over the weekend to prepare for…but I said I’d do it, and here I am.

As part of the blog hop, I’m supposed to tag several blogs — this is supposed to be prearranged and all very tidy and organized. But it seems that the bloggers I read are just as busy as I am, and no one has gotten back to me. So I am merely going to TELL you about some blogs that I visit, and hope that some alchemy will take place.

I have a few bloggers who follow me — and I follow them. If you’ve been reading me for very long, you’ve probably visited Kathleen Kirk’s Wait! I Have a Blog? If you haven’t, I am happy to recommend her. (The Valentine’s Day post is especially swell.) While you’re there, hop on over to EIL (Escape into Life), the on-line Arts Journal (and blog) that she edits.

I frequently link to Priscilla Long‘s professional blog sponsored by American Scholar, but I can’t mention blogs without referring you to her, so here it is.

Abbie Johnson Taylor’s Abbie’s Corner  is a blog to visit when you’re feeling down. She is a poet, a fiction writer, a memoirist, and a full-time human being who I have grown to admire greatly. Someday I’m going to find out if we’re related through my maternal grandmother, whose maiden name was Taylor.

Amanda Laughtland’s A Teeny Tiny Blog is a must see for anyone who loves teeny tiny poetry — or poetry, generally.

I have several good friends who blog — occasionally. Although Deep Grace of Theory does not have any recent posts, it is one of my favorite go-to places for serious thinking about serious things, and links to more such places.

My friend Shawna is launching a new career as a wellness coach, very busy on Facebook and Pinterest, but she also has a blog, Shawna Michels Lifestyle Coaching. Who knows? If I tag her maybe she’ll start taking it more seriously. If you want to change your food, she’ll help change your life.

Carol Dunn used to work for the American Red Cross, and she is the creator behind the 2Resilience’s Blog, which is a great resource for information about disasters. She hasn’t been posting for a while and I hope it’s because she’s writing a bodice-ripping novel about pirates.

Finally, my dear friend Carla Shafer is the mover and shaker behind Chuckanut Sandstone Readers Theatre and all sorts of other literary doings in Bellingham.

I know that I have some other lurkers on my site who blog — I’ve met them at the It’s About Time readings at the Ballard Public Library (click on the link to find a schedule of upcoming readings). This reading series was founded by my friend Esther Helfgott, a Seattle poet, writer, and writing coach.

I’ll see you in Part II, with my answers to the interview questions. 

On Wednesday my Creative Nonfiction students have to turn in a rough draft of their Big, True Story. I went into today’s class determined to make a last-ditch effort to get them to think about narrative arc.

Not that it’s the only way,  or the best way, but I like to look at stories through the hero’s journey. Well, I like to, but — I admit — the hero’s journey doesn’t always work for me. I’ve looked at a model called the heroine’s journey, too, but there’s always something slightly “off.”  It has to do with not taking it quite so literally. You can’t cut a story out with a pattern. It has to come from a very deep place inside of you.

Today — partly because of a conversation I’m having with a friend via email, partly because of a big break-through in my story during my foil-star time in the morning, and partly as a function of having a 35-minute drive to work, plus as a result of my plan to talk about graphic stories in class today — I came up with a graphic model of the hero’s journey. I don’t think I’m talented enough to represent it here — graphically — but if you email me at bethany.alchemy@gmail.com I can send you a PDF of it.

I gave each stage of the journey one box, sometimes a circle (for mentor and for inmost cave), sometimes a quick series of smaller boxes (ordeal, seizing the sword, and road back). As often happens when I attempt to teach something visually, I got a big lightning-flash bolt of insight.

I’ve known for a long time that the inmost cave is not just “the darkest moment,”  “lowest point,” “belly of the whale,” but also that it’s the place where you rest and get strong enough to carry on. You HAVE to do that in order to face the ordeal, seize the sword, and make the good but often difficult choice to follow the road back.

I didn’t realize, however, that those three steps are PART of the inmost cave. Duh! The road back is the threshold step, the step OUT of the cave. Until you face the ordeal and seize the sword, you can’t get out of the cave.

One student talked with me after class about how she can’t use the hero’s journey, how it will not work. This young woman has a particularly dark story to tell. The reason it doesn’t feel like a journey is that she’s still curled up in the cave in a fetal position. She hasn’t decided yet if there’s a going to be an end to this story. In her position, a lot of people would retrace their steps and take the back way out of the cave. They would take up knitting or watch a lot of TV or do good works. They would not face this.

I told her she had my permission to write whatever she needs to write for this rough draft. I’ll read it. It might be that it’s beautifully lyric and formless. That could be fine. But it might be that she needs someone to hold her hand while she walks out of the cave.