Category Archives: The Golden Notebook

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On the ninth day of blogging, I read some books and drank some tea . . .

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In which Emma reflects on her bookshelves and her lies about drinking tea. Continue reading »

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“Why a story at all? Why not, simply, the truth?”

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In which Emma takes a break from NaPOak Tree in Winter at Lacock Abbey by William Henry Fox Talbot oMo to talk about Doris Lessing. Yes, again. Continue reading »

A festival of photos / A teacher's education / Academic inquiries / accidental confessions / bad behavior in public places / cat macros / Cats in Bags / childhood ailments and other daily disasters / Confessional Literature / Confessionalism / Emma is cursed / Gertrude Stein (feline version) / How Doris Lessing changed my life / Inquiries into academics / Labyrinths and Minotaurs / lolcats / mullings and ramblings / NOT COOL. / perfection is boring. period. / ranting and raving / re-purposing / Recharging the mental batteries / shameless cat photos / teaching / The confessional I / the confessionals / The Golden Notebook / the three jobs / thought for the day / Uncategorized

“I’m Miss American Dream Since I Was Seventeen.”

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In which Emma describes The Great Laundry Basket Battle of 2009 and talks a bit about just how amazing and awesome Doris Lessing is. Continue reading »

A festival of photos / A teacher's education / Academic inquiries / awesome kids we should all keep an eye out for / bad behavior in public places / books / Cats in Bags / Confessional Literature / Confessionalism / edumacation / Failure Schmailure / Fiction Superheroes / Georgetown College / How Doris Lessing changed my life / influences / Inquiries into academics / inspiration / introductions / mullings and ramblings / Notebooks / pedagogy / perfection is boring. period. / random musings / ranting and raving / readings / shameless cat photos / teaching / The confessional I / the confessionals / the genre line (and stepping over it) / The Golden Notebook / the three jobs / Uncategorized / where are you going where have you been

“Well isn’t it odd, Anna?”

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At the start of 2001, I was twenty years old, and beginning my second semester as a junior in college and a study-abroad student at the University of East Anglia (which was a wonderful place, but a terribly ugly campus — all terribly ugly modern concrete buildings built, I kid you not, in the shape … Continue reading »