I once had an idea for a children’s book: an American child moves to Germany and learns her way around her new town and/or shows her visiting relatives around town. I was moderately pleased with the idea.

Then I saw in the library today that someone has done exactly that for the city of Stuttgart. It looks a bit like a visitor’s bureau guide for the 12-and-under set, complete with maps.

I had envisioned an artist’s rendition, maybe in watercolors, of some of the highlights of Heidelberg interspersed with pictures of the characters.

Just because someone else has done something similar to my original idea here doesn’t mean that there might not still be a market for it in America, but it is kind of disappointing on the one hand, that someone beat me to the punch, but exhilarating on the other, to know that the idea I had was a viable one.

My boss in the English Department is sort of on sabbatical this semester—she swapped places with a professor in New Mexico. Back in April, she was in town for a conference and arranged to have lunch with us lowly student employees. She told us a really outrageous story about the goings-on in her department-away-from-home (which I won’t go into here, but it was way out there). Then she wanted to hear about how we were all doing.

One of the other student employees, S, brought up the creative writing class she is taking. Apparently there is this core group of students who keep taking the class every semester and are very resistant to any suggestions for change. (Of course, the student who brought up the changes prefaced her statement with, “In America, we….” Dumb, dumb, dumb.) S is very disappointed in the class, because she was hoping that they would actually work on specific problems—say characterization, for instance—and would get and give honest feedback. But no, the old-timers want to churn out new stories every week and cash in on a warm fuzzy in class, not work on improving what they’ve already written.

And to add another layer of frustration with the class, there is a fellow student who only writes really icky porn. Badly written icky porn. She says she can tell that he is mostly trying to freak out his classmates. She is more freaked out by his lack of interpersonal skills and disregard for personal space.

What was really strange about her mentioning this guy was that I had just read some of his stuff not 30 minutes before our lunch. I was working in the English Department library, and I finished up with a little time to spare before lunch, so I was browsing the course materials on the hold shelf. Creative writing caught my eye, so I thought I’d see what was in that binder. There were a few stories in there, one a take on Snow White that I really liked and which induced me to keep reading. That’s when I found the ick-meister. As I told S and everyone at lunch, it seemed that he was trying to show off how many synonyms for “semen” he knew. At which my boss did a spit take and declared that she had missed me.