We talk about characters, situations, descriptions, opponents, goals, disasters. My nose is running like a faucet, but I'm happy. They're on board. There's a big debate over male or female focal character. They want an avalanche for the disaster.
Class is lively.
They are amazed at how quickly we can put together a story. We won't make the ending while I'm there. They are each to work out the ending they like best. At the potluck that night the police chief settles into a metal folding chair next to me. I comment on the number of people there who were aunts, uncles, nieces, cousins.