The genre of telling you that I am revising my essay.
The genre of telling you that my students are the best.
The genre of telling you that my grading is going well.
The genre of telling you that this is the most incredibly rewarding profession, and I thank god every morning that I am #lucky enough to do it.
The genre of telling you that I am revising my article.
The genre of telling you that I’m writing. I am.
The genre of telling you that the humanities are very possibly in trouble.
The genre of telling you that I am revising my book.
The genre of telling you that my grading is going less well.
The genre of telling you that I am having some issues with a book chapter.
The genre of telling you that the humanities are quite certainly in trouble.
The genre of telling you that the humanities are going to save the world.
The genre of telling you that yes, the humanities are definitely going to save the world.
The genre of telling you that some of my students are not the best.
The genre of telling you that I think I have figured out the issue I was having with that book chapter.
The genre of telling you that I am still writing.
The genre of telling you that I am revising my other article.
The genre of telling you that my grading is not going well at all, and I may be drinking.
The genre of telling you that this profession is doomed, and I don’t know what the hell I was thinking in grad school.
The genre of telling you that my book chapter is posing some problems again, but I’m fine.
The genre of telling you that I really am fine, and the chapter is progressing.
The genre of telling you that I’m absolutely figuring it all out.
The genre of telling you that I’m just revising things and writing things, and everything is great.