“Kim was solemn and neo-classical and condescending”
I had forgotten these words, in this order, in context.
Here’s the thing: Peter Klappert was usually right about me. Damn him.
I am too solemn when I write. (But not in life: I have a laugh big enough to fill an Irish pub, and I quip with the best of them.) But on the page, I drop, dead weight, into melancholy.
Jesus, neo-classical? Seriously? Just when I wanted to be avant-garde, there was his grinning satyr face telling me my porticos were sagging and the columns sprawled out of line. (Though I do wonder why he hyphenated neo from classical. He rarely erred.)
I hated that workshop, and it showed.
We had a falling out. Bitchiness on both sides, and a tendency to hold a grudge on mine. The truth: I missed Diva-him the minute we stopped talking. Before the grudge eased, I found a new lover, crashed and burned out of the MFA program, married my lover and
Peter said, “For some women,” <raised-eyebrow glance at me> “marriage is toxic to writing. Doesn’t matter if it is a happy one or not. It gets in the way.” (My paraphrase: he probably used better words, with dubious hyphenation.)
I would like to say he was wrong, but Peter Klappert rarely erred.