This is not a Beowulf Criticism. I would know, I’ve been working on one since 6. I only have the introduction done, but it contains a thesis statement that I’m 98% sure I can walk out for 5, 10, 20 pages if I so choose. So I’m putting that down for the morning.
In the last week I have written nearly 30 pages on books, culture, and more books. It’s a fairly typical week for this semester. I’m going to miss all of this one day soon, but for now I sorta miss writing whatever I want. So, I’m going to post this — because it isn’t a springboard but a thought I’d like to read again in August, when I’m holding my child and my degree and things have changed. I want to recall the day I spent the early morning working on an introduction to a Beowulf criticism and be grateful that it is behind me, and be grateful that it existed, and be grateful.