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| Coe Review Coe College Collective Subconscious Co-Conspirators |
Here's a bit of my blurb in the Contributor Notes: "Sharon Houk is a graduate of the University of Notre Dame and a devotee of the Iowa Summer Writing Festival. She teaches math and computer science at Lewis University where she is the only non-English department judge for the university's annual literary magazine."
As I plan a celebration tonight on this occasion of becoming a published author, I have to smile as I think of my portfolio. My first piece of real writing was a poem that I wrote in second grade about a little sculpture that I had made: Charlie the Pig. You couldn't have known it was a pig unless I had told you. I remember I was very proud of my poem. Probably, I only showed it to my sister, Maureen, who remains, to this day, one of my literary champions.
In Olympia High School (Olympia, Washington), I had an English teacher who said that I had a talent for writing and that I should keep doing it. It was at that same school that I had a different teacher who had us do a 20-minute timed write every week. He'd give us a word or a phrase and 20 minutes later we had to turn in a piece of writing. That was one of the best things that ever happened to me as a writer. Every day I'm grateful for that. Also at that same school, I misspelled a huge painted sign ("Happy Senoir Day!" or something like that). Always could write. Never could spell. Luckily a sign editor emerged in the nick of time.
Through the years I've made many books of poetry and artwork for friends: for Peggy (for friendship), Robbie (for silliness), Chuck (for the sake of art), Maureen & Kevin (for their wedding), and so on. Each one was pure gift and I don't have copies. In college I used to post a poem of the week outside my dorm room door. I had heard a story about how the Inuit people in Alaska had a habit of making little carvings and then just dropping them into the snow - that the important thing was in the making of their art not in keeping the resulting piece of art on a shelf somewhere. I don't even know if this is true, but it resonated with me. I never kept much of my writing. I just let my poems float away.
And I've made many books for family: for Audrey, Aidan and Ellie. For my son, Ben. Some of these I have copies of. Some have floated away. A few years back I was at a class reunion when this guy came up to me in the South Dining Hall (north quad rules, but south was what was open). And the guy knows me and he says something like, "Are you still writing and just letting your work float away?" And I laughed and said "yes". He said, "Well, you'd better stop just letting it float away. You'd better keep track of it."
It's against my nature to grovel before the results of an effort. I thrive when I sink all my teeth into the process. In part this is just what my art is all about. It's gift. I don't know that I've ever written something that wasn't "for" someone in some real way. It might be for my son - a gift of love. It might be for my sisters - a gift of humor. It might be for a stranger suffering in a way that I can understand - a gift of comprehension. And when I loose these gifts into the world, I'm happy. That's enough for me.
I didn't keep a copy of "Charlie the Pig". Charlie the Pig is just oinking its way around our collective subconscious. I'm good with that. But I'm going to keep a copy of Coe Review, Volume 13, Number 2, Fiction 2013. I'm so grateful to have been momentarily in the company of such talented people including the student editors who took such good care of my words. I send my thanks to Emily Weber, managing editor and blog manager. My favorite line in her piece Prosaic is "And I put myself to bed, tasting my hard 't's with my tongue." And what's a dip-can? Do tell. And thanks to Stefani Wright, Christina Angelios and Luke Winkelman, fiction editors. My favorite line in Stefani's 2 Minutes 16 Seconds Inside Her Head is "'What are you thinking,' you ask, fingers dancing in my hand." That's perfect! Christina says that she is using "her English and creative writing courses to understand the immense insanity that is her life." Funny enough, that's what I'm busy doing as well. Luke... I just have the feeling that it must have been Luke that edited my story. If so, well done, Luke. You are, as you claim, "one of the greatest contributors that Coe Review has ever known".
Thanks also to everyone else who was part of this terrific issue. It is an honor to have been a tiny part of it. In time, this work, like all work, will float away into humanity's collective subconscious. And I will be forever honored to be floating around in your company.
published: https://coereview.org/2013/07/10/tigers-on-the-savanna-sharon-houk/
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