The 2025 Spring/Summer edition of Teach. Write. is dedicated to the people of Western North Carolina and to those who have come to their aid in the aftermath of Hurricane Helene as well as the numerous wildfires that have devasted our area. The themes of resilience and courage weave their way through the poems, stories, and essays.
In 2017, I started publishing the literary journal Teach. Write: A Literary Journal for Writing Teachers to showcase the work of teachers. I found throughout my career that seeking publication for my writing, allowing myself to be vulnerable by exposing my writing to the world improved both my writing AND teaching. It’s been a joy.
Read for free online at the journal’s website–teachwritejournal.com or buy a print copy for $15.00 + shipping and handling by clickinghere. Submissions are open for the fall/winter 2025 edition until September 1. I would love to see your work, especially if you are a teacher, but I am open to all. See submission guidelines here.
August 1, 2023, was my first official day of retirement. I left after 27 years of teaching at a small community college in western North Carolina. Officially, I retired early, but I say I ended my career right on time. Some may say that I was burned out or that I had quietly quit years before, and perhaps both are true. All I know is that I loved teaching, what it really is supposed to be, too much to keep trying to do it with little academic freedom or shared governance. I couldn’t remain in a place that cared more about enrollment and data than individual students and their learning.
Writing and editing, separate from the scads of e-mails I wrote and student writing I graded, are the things that kept me going the last few years of my teaching career. This blog, started in 2014, was the first place I regularly vented my frustrations at the negative changes I saw at my institution. But I also kept my spirits up by writing about teaching itself, some of my victories in the classroom, my memories of great teachers and wonderful teaching experiences I had.
Then, in 2017, after publishing another short story and having published dozens of theater reviews and feature articles for the local newspaper, I realized that risking rejection and criticism by putting my work out into the world not only helped me be a better writer, but it also made me a better writing teacher. I wanted to offer a special kind of professional development opportunity to other writing teachers and Teach. Write. was born. Editing Teach. Write. has been one of the joys of my life and is even better now that I have time to devote to its improvement.
However, even with the blog and the journal, the pressure was getting to me. The worst part of all was realizing how powerless I was to effect any change as I witnessed the autonomy that I had enjoyed at the beginning of my career begin to erode. So, I turned to a writing project that began as a musical but had laid dormant for several years–a satire called CAMPUS.
When it started getting particularly rough, I turned back to CAMPUS and decided, I think with the help of my wonderful daughter, that I wanted to turn my musical into a novel and keep the musical element alive by podcasting it with music. How? How would I do it? First, my daughter, a sound technician, did research on the best podcasting equipment, told my sweet husband, who bought the equipment for me as a Christmas gift. It wasn’t long before I was podcasting this crazy, satirical story about higher education at a small college in western North Carolina.
But not just any college. This enchanted campus has elves, gnomes, moon people, fairy godteachers, vampires, zombies, and a boojum–kind of an Appalachian yeti–oh, and a nazi. CAMPUS is definitely out there, but its weirdness has allowed me to say things I never could have said out loud otherwise. I produced about 13 episodes.
You can go and hear them at most podcasting platforms. Just search CAMPUS: A Novel That Wants to Be a Musical and you will find them. Don’t get too excited–the production value is low because I have no idea what I’m doing, but you know, I’m kind of proud of those episodes. I’m proud of myself for completing them, taking a chance. They helped me survive those last few years of teaching and the isolation of teaching during the worst of the pandemic years.
I want to get back to completing CAMPUS when I finish the other big writing projects on my plate right now, but until then, I will leave you with one of my favorite scenes from CAMPUS, when the discouraged, burned-out faculty makes their debut “Down at the Diploma Mill.”
DOWN AT THE DIPLOMA MILL
At that, in true musical fashion, a slow droning chant arose from across the quad as “They” began to come in. The slow heavy beat of the prison blues, the stomping of feet like the striking of a heavy hammer on a stake. THEM, teachers in ragged clothes and carrying old worn-out books came onto the quad. And they chanted:
ONCE WE WERE SOME BRIGHT YOUNG TEACHERS
ONCE WE WROTE ENGAGING LESSON PLANS
ONCE WE LOOKED INTO THEIR SHINING FACES
OUR STUDENTS WERE OUR INNOCENT LITTLE LAMBS
BUT NOW
BUT NOW
BUT NOW
CHORUS
WE’RE WORKIN’ DOWN AT THE DIPLOMA MILL
LOOKIN’ FOR SOME BRAIN CELLS TO KILL
WE NEVER MEANT IT TO BE THIS WAY
BUT WE GOT NOTHIN’ LEFT TO SAY
DOWN AT THE DIPLOMA MILL
ONCE WE HAD SOME GOOD IDEAS
ONCE WE TRIED TO CHANGE OUR WAYS
WE ALL SHUNNED STANDARDIZED TESTS
TRIED OUR BEST
TO NOT BE LIKE THE REST
BUT NOW
BUT NOW
BUT NOW
WE’RE WORKING
AT THE DIPLOMA MILL
WE’RE WORKING DOWN AT THE DIPLOMA MILL
LOOKIN’ FOR SOME BRAIN CELLS TO KILL
WE NEVER MEANT IT TO BE THIS WAY
BUT WE GOT NOTHIN’ LEFT TO SAY
DOWN AT THE DIPLOMA MILL
ASK AN ESSAY QUESTION
DO A PROJECT INSTEAD
BUT THE DEAN SAID IT WASN’T ASSESSMENT
WE SHOULD GET RETURN ON OUR INVESTMENT
IF IT’S NOT SOMETHING WE CAN CALCULATE
OR THAT’S EASY TO REGURGITATE
THEN IT’S SOMETHING YOU CAN’T DO
DOWN AT THE DIPLOMA MILL
The group begins to hum as they mount the stage and form a line of disgruntled burned out teachers. An old professor in a ragged tweed jacket with torn leather patches on the shoulder, holding a pipe comes to the mic. There is no sign of Dr. DAG. He’s gone off to Dog Hobble to that expensive restaurant only a few residents and the tourists can afford.
The old professor takes the mic as the group hums on. He speaks:
I’ll tell you what I want. Huh, come to think of it, what, exactly, do I want? I used to want to be published in exclusive journals, solicited to speak at prestigious conferences, overseas…in Europe…in Paris, all expenses paid. I wanted to be so valuable to the college I could thumb my nose at the presidents and VPs and deans and especially department chairs like Dr. C. J. Hamilton, who just had to lord over me his award-winning dissertation, the title of which he doesn’t let anyone forget– The Reawakening of Chartism and the Writings of Thomas Carlylse in the Post-Victorian/Pre-Edwardian Epoch.
Do you know what he said when I told him that I had my students all meet me at that great vegan restaurant in Asheville? He said it was stupid! Yeah. My innovative idea! A lot better than sitting around on a bunch of hard chairs in straight little rows listening to Dr. Hamilton drone on and on about Sartor Resartus and Queen Victoria’s increasing seclusion and her fat son’s sickening perversions.
My idea was great! We had a good meal, raised a few organic brews, and it was off to search for the famous O’Henry plaque embedded in the sidewalk near the cafe. We found it. I didn’t tell them that when O’Henry came to Asheville, he was a penniless drunk. How could I tell a group of 20-somethings in a creative writing class that I knew all their dreams would come to nothing?
But then we all drove together over to the Grove Park Inn to find the F. Scott Fitzgerald room. They all wanted to see the place where Fitzgerald didn’t write while he waited for Zelda to slowly lose her mind. We found the room, but I think we had all underestimated the effect of that many beers, organic or not, on our critical thinking skills. We had a hard time finding the room, and when we did and got in there… How did we get in there?
The concierge wasn’t too happy that we barged in on those German tourists. At least one of them was German because I recognized certain select vernacular. Anyway, before the burly one threw us out, I did get a glimpse around the room, a nice room, but ordinary, nothing special about it at all really. I mean why should there be? Fitzgerald just sat there, day in and day out, not writing and drinking himself into mind- numbing oblivion. On second thought, although I can’t tell you what I want, I can tell you what I don’t want. I don’t want to do this anymore.
You can order print copies of the 2024 Spring~Summer edition of Teach. Write. at Lulu.com. Here is the link. If you are interested in submitting to the journal for the 2025 Fall~Winter edition, please go to teachwritejournal.com to see the submission guidelines.
The publication of the print copy is always great, but one more exciting thing is coming up that some of you might be interested in, especially if you live in North Carolina. I’m going to be a guest editor at the North Carolina Writers’ Network spring conference. I will be one of the “Slush Pile LIve” panelist. I was honored that they asked me, and you can be sure that I will take copies of this most recent edition!
March came and went without me posting, but it wasn’t like I was just sitting around! No, I was spending every waking moment working on the new edition of Teach. Write. And taking walks with friends and playing with my not so little kitten. Going to Alabama to help take care of my mother. Working on my play as a Dramatists Guild Foundation National Fellow And spending ten glorious days in Germany to celebrate our 35th anniversary and my brother’s retirement.
Yes, Katie’s been busy NOT teaching. Without the pressures of preparing lessons and grading essays, I was actually able to take my time and truly enjoy the editing process. I’m happy with the results; hope you will be, also.
Total honesty. I wasn’t really looking forward to the North Carolina Writers’ Network fall conference as much as I have in the past. I’m not sure why, but I think the main reason was my inner critic. I guess sometimes I don’t think I deserve to call myself a writer. I know I am one, but, oh, I don’t know what I mean. I think I should have had a book published by now, I suppose. I have had many short stories published. I’ve had four plays produced, I blog, I edit and publish a journal, but….
But, but, but, but…why do I do this to myself?
Anyway, this is the way I had been talking to myself BEFORE the conference.
First, thing, though, I saw two writer friends whom I hardly ever see except at writing conferences. We talked about our writing, got caught up on life events, our families. We ate several of our meals together and chatted about what we learned from the sessions we attended. I always feel so much better when I get together with other writers. They get me. So, they totally understood why I was so happy to find out that my play “A Carolina Story” made it to the finals for the Dramatists Guild Foundation’s Virtual Musical Theatre Fellowship.
I was also glad I went because of the quality faculty. All my sessions were led by people with the knowledge, experience, and wisdom that I was looking for. Most memorable was the session on writing books of essays led by Patrice Gopo because it helped me get a breakthrough about how I want to structure Lessons, the teaching memoir/methods book that I’m working on. I can’t wait to read her book Autumn Song to see how she applied the techniques described in her session.
Another great thing that happened is I met one of my contributors. He walked up to me and introduced himself, saying how much he appreciated my acceptance of his work for the last edition of Teach. Write. Especially meaningful was how he thanked me for giving teachers an outlet for their work. Man, made me feel good.
Finally, I just had fun. I was relaxed. It was the first conference I attended without having to worry about checking work e-mail in between sessions or getting behind in planning classes, maintaining online courses, or grading essays. It was glorious to use my break just to walk around the little lake by the conference hotel on a glorious autumn day.
If you’ve never heard of the North Carolina Writers’ Network, then I encourage you to check it out. You don’t have to live in North Carolina to be a member. The thing I like most about it, as I rediscovered this past weekend, is that it is a true network of writers, and more than a few teachers, who teach and learn from each other, who understand the struggles and triumphs of the writing life.
Teach. Write.: A Writing Teachers’ Literary Journal is now available in print. If you are interested in purchasing a copy, click here. The online version is available now at my sister site, teachwritejournal.com. I am now open to submissions for the spring/summer 2024 edition. If you are interested in submitting, please see my submission guidelines.
Katie Winkler on Roosevelt Island–photo by Hannah Winkler
I haven’t written much since I’ve been busy with the journal, writing my teaching memoir, traveling to New York City for the first time, spending time with family, and welcoming a new fuzzy family member into our home, but I have much to write about, so I will be back soon with more musings and mutterings about education in the South.
My father always said, in his loveably corny way, that he wasn’t ever going to retire, but refire! I think I will take his mantra as I embark on this new phase of my life. I have taken a few days to just re-evaluate things and decide what I want to spend my time doing.
So much of my time the last 55 years and more has been about getting an education or being an educator that it is going to take time to learn how to focus on other things, but I’m eager to try. I am already loving the freedom to order my life according to what is important to me, not my teachers or my employers.
Where to begin? Sheesh, now that it comes down to it, I’m having trouble even putting anything down. I know I want to spend more time with my family without annoying them, and I want to do things for them without hovering or being bossy.
But when it comes to the non-essentials, I guess the first thing I want is to write. I know that! Of course, I will continue writing this blog—my goal is to write a post once a week. But more than that, I want to start marketing the blog more and learn more about the business side of blogging and up my game a bit in that department. So, I guess I will be going back to school in that sense, but again, I want to do it. Nobody can make me anymore. Or voluntell me!!
It’s been a year since I worked on my podel (podcasted novel) Campus: A Novel That Wants to Be a Musical, so I want to pick that back up. I think I will shoot for one episode a month and try to increase that gradually. I want to improve the quality of the productions as well, which I am looking forward to doing.
My podcasting set up thanks to husband and daughter
I have already started working on the book that my mother suggested I write—a memoir of my teaching career. My goal is to finish by the end of the year, which means averaging about 600 words a day, so I’m on track. I am pleased with the format I’ve chosen and the writing is coming so much easier now that I am not spending so much of my summer vacation days planning my classes for the fall semester.
Spending more time with each edition of Teach. Write., the literary journal I founded, edit, and publish, is also something I want to do. I feel like I have made small improvements since the first edition in 2017, but I have always felt rushed to get each edition out. I am glad that retirement will afford me more time to work on this passion project.
First edition of Teach. Write.
So many other things I want to do, but I never want to forget that I also want to leave room in my life to be less busy, to listen more, read more, and have times like today to just sit on a porch in Alabama with a cup of coffee on a cool summer morning before the day heats up, listen to the collared Eurasian doves coo, pet a soft German shepherd puppy, and talk about life with my baby brother.
It’s a good life.
Me several years ago before seeing a play at the Peace Center in Greenville, SC.
The print version of the 2023 spring~summer edition of Teach. Write.: A Writing Teachers” Literary Journal is available for purchase. Go to this link if you want to order a copy.
Also, an updated online version is also now available here.
I am currently seeking submissions for my first post-retirement edition of Teach. Write. Submissions will close on September 1, 2023. Click here for submission guidelines. I would love to see your work, especially if you are, or were, a writing teacher.
Teach. Write. is an online publication, but I like to make print copies available. I don’t know. I just love seeing my work on a real printed page, and I think many of my contributors feel the same way. It wasn’t easy getting the print version ready, though. Work has been crazy busy with finishing up one eight-week composition class and starting two more next week, plus a four-week student success course (crazy, man). Despite my schedule, however, I wanted to get this publication out before tomorrow because something special is going to happen.
One of my contributors, Jeff Burd, and two of his writer friends whose work also appears, have arranged a special virtual reading tomorrow. Nine contributors will be reading their work. Jeff will introduce each one, and I will follow each reading with a word or two about why I chose that work for the journal.
What a great idea!! And to top it off, Jeff and his friends have arranged everything because they are teachers, too, and know I wouldn’t have had time to make it happen. All I have to do is show up and be proud!!!
Since I started publishing Teach. Write. in 2017, I have, of course, been impressed with the talent that has come my way, but even more than that, I have been thankful for the kindness of my contributors. Something special about Teacher-Writers.
Hey, Mrs. Winkler! 