Karen Karbo

Remembering Julie Mancini. In 1997 she called me and asked if I wanted to get paid "real money" to teach a 3 week creative writing intensive at a local high school. I would parachute in, commandeer the class, while the regular in-class teacher sat back (in one case, a teacher excused himself while I taught to pick up his dry-cleaning). For a cool three grand, I would have three weeks to do anything I wanted. I loved the crazy creative/guerilla spirit of the whole endeavor. It was pure Julie. This was the beginning of Writers-in-the-Schools.

That first year the kids and I had the idea to Xerox and bind an anthology of their essays and short stories. One of the kids designed the R.Crumb-inspired cover. They wanted to call it "The Big Book of Naked Lady Pictures." (There were no pictures in the anthology, naked or otherwise.) I thought, sure, why not? These kids are seniors in high school. Julie said I could do what ever I wanted. And she did not betray the spirit of the enterprise. I brought it to her and she broke into that big smile we all loved. "This is fucking fantastic!"

Of course, it was Julie who was fucking fantastic. There are so many extraordinary writers, teachers, students, administrators, volunteers, and readers who make Portland the bright literary star that it is, but there was no one like Julie. May she already be setting up a reading series in the summerlands. Adieu, dear one.

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