SHORT STORY CLUB Our titles for April 2022 are… “There Will Come Soft Rains,” by Ray Bradbury (1950) and “The Black Stain,” by Nnedi Okorafor in the collection “Kabu Kabu” (2013) and “Beneath the National Palace of Culture,” by Garth Greenwell (2015) We will gather online in April 2022 to discuss. Join Short Story Club
All posts by Erin
Eighteenth Day: The Final 50
The school district and the teachers’ union have come to a tentative agreement, and so it looks like we will be back in school some time next week. I am grieving. The loss of family, any normalcy, predictability, kids’ progress, their friendships. The rest of this school year. I’m calling this my last 50 words…
Episode 17 of Read Write Review
In this episode, I talk about what is to come: Interviews with other writers/creatives. I also recommend the podcast Educate. Find me on Twitter @erinhadelunde and Instagram @everythingerinlunde. Subscribe for free to my Substack newsletter motherhood minutes. Subscribe for free to my bi-weekly newsletter Stories About Telling Stories, where I give you lots of other…
Seventeenth Day
I attended the Public School Funding Discussion last night. The strike is over as of a tentative agreement made overnight, but shit we have troubles going forward. I have many more than 50 words, but this is what I’m adding for yesterday’s 17th day since the strike was called. Days spin out and everyone is…
Sixteenth Day
I’m hearing the district walked out on negotiations. I think about three years from now. I hear about losing ground after typical summer breaks. I hear “kids are resilient,” but most kids just learn how to acclimate to their problems until later in life when shit blows up. Mental health support will be urgent when…
Fifteenth Day
How many times have you cried today? The district says there’s a newer, wider gap and that they again have offered their last, best offer. There is a newer, wider gap between my mind and where it used to be. Why is it hard to fund public education? And live on one full-time job? Another…
Fourteenth Day
My god. Days ago, we heard “promising news” regarding the strike. Now, I hear “budget cuts,” and I know that will mean no more music. We went to Iowa. We’re back. The house remains. The strike continues. The past two years are fuzzy, like a misremembered dream. We need to go back.
Thirteenth Day
We’ll go back tomorrow. I wonder what we’ll know by then. My 50 words: I realize that just because I’m in a different space it turns out I still have kids I need to care for. The district says they offered their “last and best” deal. I’ve heard nothing and I cannot speculate. I know…
Twelfth Day
Another weekend. The second strike Saturday. At Sam’s lesson in the morning, in Minneapolis, I am struck by how few people even know. We scramble into the van and drive to my parents’ because it’s not like we have school on Monday. We see my nephew, visiting on Spring Break. What now.
Eleventh Day
I’m mad today. My kids need to go to school. My kids’ teachers need to feel valued. My 50 words: I hear a plane fly overhead. I want to get on it. We’ve been school-free for eleven days. Alice says she likes weekends but she likes school more. I feel like an insect in a…