This blog is about writing, teaching, teaching about writing and literature (aka other people’s writing), dogs, food: life. I’ve taught students from kindergarten through college over the years; coached student teams; written stories, magazine feature articles, course outlines, assignments, notes, apologies, poetry, letters, and more stories which took their own mind and became novels.
So why Searching for X, also the title of one of my stories? I think we are all searching for X, in some aspect of our lives. Maybe it’s a better job, the person we’re going to fall in love with, the perfect recipe for sugar cookies. (Which I have, by the way, thanks to my friend Ina.)
We were talking about what-we-were-going-to-do-over-the-summer. “I’m going to find the perfect sugar cookie recipe,” I told her. I had it all planned: bake a batch a week, and spend the long bright days trying them. Some would be too floury: the butter taste would not come through and they’d be flat, even fresh out of the oven. Some would have too much sugar: they might have the right taste, but the consistency of a sandcake. Some might taste like the original Girl Scout cookie recipe (another goal). In between cookie batches, I’d sit in the sun, go to the Lake, watch tree leaves wave green flags against the blue sky. I might gain a pound a week (you can’t gain more than a pound per batch of cookies, right?), but by the end of the summer I’d feel relaxed and have the right sugar cookie recipe.
“I have the perfect recipe,” she said. “It melts in your mouth. Everyone loves it. I will write it out and give you a copy.” She could have baked some to go with the recipe card, but she was busy with her summer, earning an “A” in Greek 2.
When I got the recipe, I stared at it for a few days. I could have put it aside and puttered about with butter and flour, sugar and salt in the cookbooks’ Sugar Cookie suggestions. But I sighed, and faced up to her truth. It made the best sugar cookies I had tasted.
So I rode my bike, sat under the trees, watched the lake’s bands of colors, and reminded myself that I had saved putting on a few pounds.
I also needed another goal for the summer. I needed to search for X.
X is the elusive, beyond-where we are, the something that – when we reach it - we discover is Y, or Z, or NaCl, taking us into a new subject which might explode in our faces or sprinkle itself across our breakfast.
Once we have it, as my friend Tina says, we find a new X. It’s the quest toward, not the finding of, that is important.