He was moved by Carolyn's poetry, and her witness, and by Terrence's quiet presence. The late night talks at Treman, the faculty lounge, took on a new seriousness as writers began to question what they were writing and why. For many of us, life was comfortable. The night before his much anticipated lecture, John announced that he did not intend to give it. Instead he'd talk about politics.
People come here to hear about writing.
Don't harangue them. Those who'd come too late stood outside peering in, leaning on the door jambs. Five minutes after ten, the crowd shifted in their chairs. Ten minutes after. A buzz began.