As usual, I arrived a little early and got to treat myself to ten minutes of sitting by the Thames with nothing to do but wait. The river is lined with hardy summer boats and the cleats to secure them.
It was then a simple matter of slowly pedaling to his house, chaining my bike to the toaster racks out front, and knocking on the door. As soon as the door opens, you can smell the books. The small flat is brimming with them. bookshelves are on top of bookshelves and stacks of books have crept onto the mantelpiece and into vacant corners.
After a blissfully challenging hour had passed, we shook hands and it was over. On the slow way home I stopped in at Blackwell's for a suggested thesaurus. Walking out with the thesaurus and the most gorgeous copy of Jane Eyre I've ever seen (the only thing I've bought myself besides food and my teapot), the sun was lowering into golden hour.
I will most certainly miss this tutorial. Not only has my writing changed, but my attitude towards writing has changed. I have practical ways to critique myself and a much better understanding of the wider discourse of poets and somewhat where I fit into that.
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