This morning, I spent a little over two hours at Marina Del Rey Middle School with in-school stalwarts Philippe and Peter, and new volunteer Hajera. All we did: sit and conference with sixth-grader after sixth-grader, ten or twenty minutes at the time, helping them brainstorm, add dialogue or suspense or detail, do whatever they needed to do for their stories-in-progress.

It's amazing how a little one-on-one time with a caring adult brings out an extra pint of creativity from every student. By the time we were done, they were brimming with ideas and couldn't stop writing, even after going for two hours. Their teacher, Mr. K, said they should ask their next teacher if they could continue writing in their next class, and the students cheered at the mere possibility of more writing time.

As I was leaving, I saw a student named Demarria out on the yard. He'd been the first student I worked with in the morning, and he just kept on coming back for feedback between my time with other students (and even occasionally during my time with other students). During an inspired moment in the classroom, he'd told me his story would become a book. As I crossed the yard, there he was, sitting on the steps of the outdoor stage. I waved at him and told him, "Keep writing," but I didn't have to; he was already hunched over, scribbling furiously in his story binder.