I feel like Sally Fields at the Oscars - "She picked me. She really picked me." Yep, in February I take my dog to her home away from home (where she is allowed to lick cereal bowls and sleep under the sheets) and then drive over to New Smyrna Beach for a three week residency at the Atlantic Center for the Arts with Carolyn Forché.
And no, I haven't, abracadabra, presto, alacazam, transformed into a poet. The residency will mix up poets and memoirists. This is going to be fun.