That's me at nine in my best Mickey Mantle pose before my first Little League game in Diamond Bar , California --a suburban boy of summer enjoying his headiest days.
Which isn't to say that the ex-shortstop sitting in his faculty office today essaying his Little League smile doesn't remember that there were--and still are--a few cowlicks lurking under the cover of that jaunty baseball cap.
Such cowlicks are among the tufts and the texts of creative nonfiction, my main teaching focus at Western, props for using the me to get at the not me (a nod to one of my favorite essayists, Scott Russell Sanders).
2004-05 marks my fifth year teaching at Western. Outside of the creative writing and composition classrooms, I have taught classes in the memoir, contemporary nonfiction, modern American poetry, documentary film, and the capstone courses for both our literature and writing tracks.
I'm working on a book of creative nonfiction called A Conjugal Act which follows a poignant 1934 letter from the wilds of Hudson Hope, British Columbia , to the office of one Dr. John Brinkley, the infamous Kansas goat gland doctor.
