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Chapters (60)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Personae
  4. I: Early Days
  5. One. Control
  6. Two. Doubt
  7. Three. Fate
  8. Four. Same
  9. Five. Fine Arts
  10. Six. In Loco Parentis
  11. Seven. Settling
  12. Eight. Neighbors
  13. Nine. Prospects
  14. Ten. The Lucky
  15. Eleven. Instruction
  16. Twelve. Same
  17. Thirteen. This Is a Pipe
  18. Fourteen. This Is Not a Pipe
  19. Fifteen. The Reason
  20. Sixteen. That Person
  21. Seventeen. Predictably
  22. II: Writing Teacher
  23. Eighteen. Early Poems
  24. Nineteen. Motivation
  25. Twenty. Allegory
  26. Twenty-One. Grief
  27. Twenty-Two. A Portrait
  28. Twenty-Three. Veils
  29. Twenty-Four. Soft Power
  30. Twenty-Five. Lists
  31. Twenty-Six. A Break
  32. Twenty-Seven. Elsewhere
  33. Twenty-Eight. Custom
  34. Twenty-Nine. Parity
  35. Thirty. Fortune
  36. III: Volta
  37. Thirty-One. Images
  38. Thirty-Two. A Very Interesting Young Man
  39. Thirty-Three. Letters
  40. Thirty-Four. We Prefer to See Ourselves Living
  41. Thirty-Five. Love
  42. Thirty-Six. The Iceberg
  43. IV: Your Best Reader
  44. Thirty-Seven. A Novelist
  45. Thirty-Eight. In Advance of the Broken Arm
  46. Thirty-Nine. Their Penultimate Encounter
  47. Forty. Détente
  48. Forty-One. Worlds
  49. Forty-Two. Recognition
  50. Forty-Three. Persistence
  51. Forty-Four. And Then
  52. Forty-Five. Mingling
  53. Forty-Six. You
  54. Forty-Seven. Persona
  55. Forty-Eight. Est et Non
  56. Forty-Nine. The Author
  57. Epilogue
  58. Afterword: The Libertine
  59. Acknowledgments
  60. About the Authors

“Is it totally crossed out? Can you not tell us what it is?”

“If you want to know what the word is, I’ll have to give you a copy of the poem.”

“Can you email it to me?”

Harry stepped a little way into the common room and made like he was going to kick Loudermilk in the head.

Loudermilk seized Harry’s ankle, hobbling him momentarily. “He’s emailing it to me,” Loudermilk hissed.

And so it began.

Greg started bringing home a case of Natural Light on the weekly and told Harry and Loudermilk about his advanced poetry workshop. He showed them his best poems and what he considered the best poems written by other members of his class. He loaned them his dog-eared copies of The Best American Poetry of 2001 and ’02.

Loudermilk put the copies of The Best American Poetry on Harry’s desk.

Loudermilk said, “Do you have any idea how many people are into this? Somebody could totally run this scene.”

Harry thanked Loudermilk for the note. On the evening in question, Greg had passed out on the floor of Harry’s room, so the two of them retired to a more agreeable setting.

In a take-out-container-strewn common zone, Loudermilk explained that Harry needed to listen up. He said what he was getting at was partly financial. He said there was a lot more to this whole poetry thing, that he himself had looked into some of the writing programs Greg was applying to for after college and there was significantly more lucre there than you would think in terms of fellowships and grants and waived fees and unexploited resources and what-have-you. He said that it would be stupid easy to get in and get out. He said that he had found some pretty great advocates among Oswego’s older male professors who, even if he’d never exactly done proficiently in their courses, enjoyed his stunts plus his willingness to shake hands with them after their most recent meandering lecture, and he thought that he, Loudermilk, would be able to put together some pretty unimpeachable letters of rec, especially given all he’d been through with that crazy anthro chick. There was a lot of goodwill being beamed in his general direction, Loudermilk just knew it. He said all he needed now was a few poems. He said, “I mean, honestly, dude, have you even thought about what you’re gonna to do after graduation?”

Harry did think. The prospect of living without Loudermilk terrified him. He pondered the hideous cover of 2001’s The Best American Poetry, depicting what appeared, incredibly, to be a sloe-eyed contemporary odalisque. He muttered something disingenuous to the effect that he hoped Loudermilk wasn’t saying he should apply, too.

Loudermilk cracked a fresh beer and handed it over. “That’s exactly what I am saying, dude. You and me, as me.”

Seven. Settling

Seven

Settling