october 7, 1999

I was into dialectic long before I matriculated at Regent. You see, I was a pretentious student of Classics with a minor in Creative Writing and a Division I athlete. I was the only varsity athlete in my department in at least fifty years. In fact, I had more than one prof suggest I couldn't handle being an athlete and studying classics. According to him, the soft sciences were a better fit for an athlete-- he said I should switch majors to sociology, psychology or communications if I continued my athletic career. He suggested that I remain a Classics major and train for a marathon, a club sport or anything less time consuming and exhausting than a team. Classics was a rigorous major plus I had to work out at least 30 hours a week training. This situation explains a) my lack of social life and b) creative writing was a wonderful much needed outlet for me and c) proof I've always taken myself a little too seriously. I loved Classics and rowing-- and I loved the idea of being a classics major and wearing my Nike-issued gear too. But, dude, did I ever enjoy writing... and sleeping. My sister would invite me over for dinner. She'd instruct me to take a nap while she cooked; I was always a wee bit ornery from over exertion.

I've always inhabited liminal space: whether it's being a scholarship kid at a boarding school or a varsity athlete in a plato seminar or a well-read poor person. It's good but hard. Friends, running, reading and writing are my sanctuaries from the necessary awkwardness. And knowing, according to my faith, this isn't my home. I'm never figured out my identity-- I was feel and felt it in contrast.

This is an extremely long introduction to a single sentence from my favorite short story I wrote in college and turned in on October 7th of my junior year. I titled the story, "Sappho's Hypothesis"-- pretentious. But, it was all these snippets of women's lives and their passion. I fashioned it on this french novel I'd just read and fragment 16 of Sappho. Anyway, the snippets were a 8 year-old with her bike, a college student with a pair of jeans, a mother with an infant, etc then I stuck in this death scene. Yea. Awkward. But, it was one of the best scenes, and here's the long awaited sentence: "She spent three weeks in a twin bed with white cotton sheets in which she hadn't had a single dream."

I've decided to rework "Sappho's Hypothesis". I still love that sentence-- I could write a short story and use it as the starting point. Most of the stuff I wrote (in college or last week) makes me cringe. But, this sentence is equal to the three or so photos I have of myself where I look really good. There are thousands of unflattering sentences and pictures out there, and there are the occasional ones that work. Here's to persistence, grace and hope.