evidentiary:alchemy

When I was a student in Antioch's MFA program, I facilitated an online conference called Process, Process, Process.  It was a space for writers to explore something other than product for a change - a welcome relief from workshops and publication obsession.  We talked about everything from the types of pens we like to use (and why) to how the climate in which we grew up affected our thinking (and why).  Social class, race, marital status, educational background, parenthood, abuse, and drugs are just a few of the rich subjects we explored.  One day, a student asked whether it might be destructive to focus so much on process.  She worried that artists and writers could become too self-conscious and somehow constrict the natural flow.

In other words, can we ever have too much process?

This month, I will explore the case of Coral Eugene Watts, and how due process can sometimes lead to unintended consequences: in this case, a confessed serial killer almost being set free.  Were it not for his first-degree murder conviction in Michigan last week, Watts would be out on the streets in under one year, released from a Texas prison with credits for good behavior.  Yes, you read that right.  Texas, the death penalty capitol of the world, was about to release a serial killer on good behavior. 

So what can this tell about process?  And about writing?