George Singleton
Dear Professor Grayson:
I hope you are well. My name is Emmigail (Emmy!) Prater, and I am presently a freshman. My computer froze up in the middle of me signing up for classes this morning, and by the time I got it working, your class was filled up. Could you give me an override into your MWF 10:30 English 102 class in Contemporary Southern Lit? I have always been interested in Contemporary Southern Lit, and that time slot fits my schedule perfectly. I heard from Meaders (Meade!) Baucom that you are a excellent lecturer. Thank you for your consideration!
Sincerely,
Emmy Prater
College of the Foothills ’23
Biology Major
VP for Community Outreach Kappa Delta
Dear Emmy—
Actually, “presently” means “about to happen.” You are “currently” a first-year student. My chairperson (Dr. Warren) has requested that we all keep a Waiting List, until every time slot gets filled. It’s kind of not fair for one professor to have, say, thirty (30!) students in a class, while another has four (4!). Keep an eye on the Interactive Schedule. There’s a chance someone changes his or her mind, and drops. Also, registration continues until Dec. 31. There will be students who decide not to attend College of the Foothills in the Spring semester. Right now, you are in the front of the pack—I have nineteen students requesting overrides, and you’re number 1.
Cordially,
Emmett Grayson
Dear Professor Grayson:
Thank you so much for the quick response, and for teaching me the difference between “currently” and “presently.” That kind of knowledge is exactly why I want to be in your Contemporary Southern Lit class!
If it helps my case, I am the epitomy of southern. Over Christmas break, I’ll be making my debut at the Carolinian Debutante Club. I’ll be the fourth generation to do so in it! Also, I was a cheerleader in high school.
Again, thank you for the quick response, and I’ll be praying that someone failes English 101.
Cordially,
Emmy Prater
College of the Foothills ’23
Political Science Major
VP for Community Outreach Kappa Delta
Dear Professor Grayson:
I know that you might be getting swamped with override requests, but I hope you can help me out. I will be a graduating senior in the Spring. As you know, English 102 is a reqired General Education Requrement. I guess you can tell by now that I failed English 102 when I was a freshman, and I just keep putting it off taking it again. I got my Western Civ 101 class (3), and two of my classes I need for my major in sociology (6). Also, I got my one hour PE class (1), and the art history class I never took that’s required (3). And my math class, which is statistics (3). Also, I’ll be taking that required People and Cultures class (3), and a Religion 101 (3). My parents are going to kill me if I don’t graduate on time.
Is there any way you can slide me into your Southern Contemporary Lit class? I’m a different man than I was four year ago. I promise I can handle 22 hours.
I look forward to getting good news from you. Everyone says you are completely understanding and awesome!
You might know my Dad, state senator Ben Barefoot.
Truly,
Zak Barefoot
Dear Zak Barefoot—
My chairperson, Dr. Warren, says we cannot possibly offer overrides until all sections of 102 are filled. I don’t want to come off sounding like a parent, but maybe you should’ve tried to take the GER class before your final semester. Also, your classes add up to 25 hours, and that seems like a lot. Anyway, I’m keeping a Waiting List. You’re #2. Check back in before the first week of Spring term. Good luck in the math class.
I don’t know your father.
Cordially,
Emmett Grayson
Dear Emmy—
I don’t think we’ll be reading anything about debutantes and cheerleaders in my class. Have you looked at Dr. Skiffer’s English 102 class—which still has something like twelve openings—called “Literature of the Afflicted”?
Cordially,
Emmett Grayson
Dear Dr. Grayson:
thank you for your email. I know I know, I know. I messed up. I should’ntve joined a fraternity. My father told me it was a way for me to make networks for later in life. He said that’s what helped him become the State Senator that He Is Today.
I look forward to hearing from you.
cordially,
Zak Barefoot
Dear Zak—
We all make mistakes. I’m not a “Dr.,” by the way. I’m just a lowly adjunct here with a master’s degree and a bunch of books I published. I’m not even sure I’m a “professor.” I rarely profess. I might have made a mistake when I agreed to take this position.
I’ll keep you in mind, and on the list.
EG
Dear Dr. Grayson:
I talked with Dr. Boyd Lawson a few minutes ago. He’s the associate provost. He’s a family friend. He told me that he will be in contact with you to vouch for my abilities as a hard-working student. Maybe that’ll push me up the list, from #1 to #In the Class.
When I played volleyball in high school, I was #1.
To show you how serious I am about my studies, I chose not to be a cheerleader, or play volleyball, here at College of the Foothills.
Emmy Prater
College of the Foothills ’23
History Major
VP for Community Outreach Kappa Delta
Dear Emmy—
I think that’s a wise choice. By the way, I’m not a “doctor.” My students just plain call me Emmett. I got hired here because of those novels I wrote about dirt-eaters in the South, and how the descendants of the brave Stono Rebellion participants eventually caused break-dancing competitions. It’s a long story that involves drum beating, tap-dancing, et cetera.
Onward—
Emmett
Dear Dr. Grayson:
My friend Morgan McAlhany is in your English 101 class. He says you cool! I hate English. Can you give me an override?
Best—
Nathan Handy
Class of ’23
College of the Foothills
Executive Committeeman
Young Republicans
Dear Nathan Handy—
Actually, I’m “Reverend Grayson.”
No.
EG
Dear Professor Grayson:
I wish you was my advisor. Is there any way that I could schedule a meeting with you? I really need to find a way to either not have to take these general education requirements, or find Easy A’s.
cordially—
Zak
PS: I just ordered your exquisite book about people who eat dirt on Amazon. My girlfriend told me about it.
Dear President Grayson:
LOL! I know that your not the president of the college, but everyone tells me that you should be!
Listen, I’m on the golf team. You’ve probably read about me in the school paper. I really need to be in your 10:30 English MWF 102 class, because we’ll be leaving a lot in the afternoons for practice, and then I’ll be missing Monday classes because of tournaments. I don’t know if you know, but college golf tournaments take place on Mondays and Tuesdays, seeing as courses make a lot of money on the weekends and they don’t want to have us there.
Can I get an override? I got up early on registration day, and I signed up for your class, but the course filled up in something like twelve seconds.
Bogey on my part!
The English department really should schedule some WF classes, just for the golf team. Maybe ya’ll don’t do it becase WF could stand for Withdraw Fail, or What the Fuck? I understand why the English department doesn’t offer only Wendsday/Friday classes.
In my defense, I understand that the odds of making it on the PGA (Professional Golf Association) tour are slim, but I wouldn’t mind writing about people on the PGA (Professional Golf Association) tour, especially the Southern Golf Tours, like in Augusta, Greensboro, Hilton Head, etc. Thus why I want to take your Southern Lit class.
Tee It Up—
Matt Copeland
Dear Zak—
I just made that up about a novel about dirt eaters. Maybe try to get into someone’s fiction writing class later on, if you need an elective.
Someone Shoot Me—
Emmett Grayson
Hey, have you heard from Dr. Boyd Lawson yet? Also I should mention that one of my best friend’s, Zak Barefoot, his father is a state senator who is willing to talk to people at the college about my getting the classes I want.
Emmy Prater
College of the Foothills ’23
English Major!
VP for Community Outreach Kappa Delta
Dear Matt Copeland—
If I ever become any kind of administrator on the college level, I want you to take your nine iron and shove it up my ass. Then, take your driver—do you use a Big Bertha?—and, with every bit of strength you can muster—slam it into my left temple as if you’re hitting a tee shot at, say, the 16th hole on the South course at the WGC-Bridgestone Invitational. It’s something like a par 5, 667 yards, hole. If I’m still alive, with a dent in my head and a club up my ass, douse me in kerosene and bend a Bic lighter down my way.
I’ll make a point of keeping you on the Waiting List.
Cordially—
Emmett
Dear Professor Grayson—
This is Emmy Prater again. I know that I might come off as obsessive, and I apologize. It’s just that I want what I want! I was raised that way! It is what it is!
My mother told me that, in the old days, sometimes students offered “sexual favors” to get a certain grade, or to get into a class, or to get a summertime house-sitting job. I’m not that way! I know that things have changed since my mom was in college twenty years ago. (She went to the University of Mississippi.)
But she also told me maybe I could say that a girl got a request for sexual favors from a professor, and the administration would believe the girl. So. What do you think about all that?
Think about it, not-doctor, not-professor, Grayson—
Emmy
Emmy Prater
College of the Foothills ’23
English Major!
VP for Community Outreach Kappa Delta
Dear Emmy—
I think that I have email proof of blackmail and whatever that other legal term is. I’ll give you this: Contemporary Southern Lit is filled with scams and con games, so maybe you don’t even need to take such a course. Come on. Don’t lower yourself.
And quit changing your major with every email. There’s some kind of Honor Code you had to sign when you first walked onto the campus, right? I know that I did.
Best—
Emmett
Dear Emmett—
Can I audit your course? I’ve been thinking about writing The Great American Novel after I retire. I’m going to retire in two years. I’ll be 75! Can you believe it?! I can’t! 75! Anyway, I know that English 102 seems like a strange starting point, but since I got tenure I haven’t written anything whatsoever, and I’m feeling rusty. Do you ever feel that way? I know that you’ve been publishing all kinds of novels and non-fiction books and poetry since they hired you here—I’m embarrassed that I haven’t read any of them—so I hope that you can offer me something in terms of me getting published.
I know that your course has to do with southern lit, but I want to write a novel about a woman who lives in Nova Scotia. And she doesn’t like cold weather. For the southern part: She likes grits, and she wants to start a restaurant up there. There’s a bunch more, but it’s in my head. It’s been in my head for forty years.
Because I’m a history professor, I want to bring things up about how Nova Scotia had a slight part in the War of 1812.
I hope this finds you well. I’ve missed seeing you on the Absentee Policy Committee.
Love,
Francine
History Department
College of the Foothills
Hey Man, if You Seem Depressed or Likely to Hurt Youself, Then I Have to Call Someone—
I played that course one time. I hit my tee shot off into the woods to the right, and when I hit my second shot I hit a tree and it bounced back and hit my left forearm. Then I had to chip out onto the fairway, and I hit it to hard so it went into the woods on the other side. So now I’m still something like 400 yards from the daggum hole. I had to chip onto the fairway again, but this time at least I went forward about fifty yards. So I had a straight line to the hole, and I sliced again. I don’t want to go into everything—let’s just say that there was water involved, and a sandtap twice. Then I three putted.
From what I’ve heard, Southern Lit is all about obstacles. I can say that I’ve dealt with obstacles.
Take care of yourself—
Matt Copeland
Dear Mr. Grayson—
I don’t know what you do in the classroom, but I’m being bombarded with telephone calls. I got one from Senator Barefoot, and getting his son Zak into your 102. Then I got another one from the senator, asking about the possibility of having his best friend’s daughter placed into your class—Emmy Prater. As I started this email, my phone rang, and it was someone claiming to be Tiger Woods, saying that his protegé, Matt Copeland, needs to be in your class.
I don’t think I need to tell you how important it is that the College of the Foothills retains its students. There have been studies concerning students not getting their preferred classes, then opting to drop out or transfer to another institution.
I understand that it’s not fair for one professor—especially an adjunct—to teach a class over-filled, while a tenured faculty member teaching the same General Education Required course contains six or eight students.
I’m asking that you be a team player. In a quid pro quo kind of way, I’m pretty sure that I have the authority to get you a reserved parking space, as a sign of gratitude.
Go Fire Ants!—
Dr. Boyd Lawson
Associate Provost
Faculty Advisor, Young Republicans
College of the Foothills
Class of ’82
Dear Francine—
Sure, audit the course. We’re not writing novels in the class, though.
All best—
Emmett
Dear Emmett—
I told a little fib. Actually, I have been working on a novel for the past month, and I’m already on page 400! Can I send you an attachment to get your feedback?
Go Fire Ants!—
Francine
Dear Dr. Grayson:
I had to drop out of College of the Foothills last Spring. I completed 101, never even registered for the next semester, stayed out of summer school, and didn’t return for the Fall. It’s a long story. Both my mother and father were diagnosed with cancer in the summer before my first year. I’m first-generation college, so they urged me to go on, even though I probably needed to help them out. I have a brother and sister, both younger than I. I finished my first term with a 4.0, somehow, then returned to take care of my parents up in Canton, North Carolina. I drove them back and forth to chemo and radiation appointments. I kept track of their medications, administered dosage, made breakfast and supper for my siblings, got them on the bus, paid the bills, and so on.
My parents passed away, three days apart, at the end of October.
I do not know if I got short-shifted because of the gap in my progress, but I got none of the classes for which I signed up. If worse comes to worst, I’ll sign up for that English 102 with Professor Skiffer’s Literature of the Afflicted, though—and I don’t want to sound like the kind of person who needs a made-up emotional support dog—I might be triggered, as my generation is prone to say, and undergo some kind of PTSD episodes, brought on by my spending the last year with afflicted parents.
I’m being facetious.
Know that I understand I’m probably at the tail-end of a long waiting list. I understand if you need to give special consideration for prospective English majors. I will not lie: I wish to dual-major in Chemistry and Biology. Then I want to go to law school, and work for a firm that specializes in class-action suits against companies like the paper mill where my parents worked, and where they, I feel certain, contracted cancer.
My siblings—should you wonder—now live with our aunt and uncle, in Asheville. It’s not far away. My aunt and uncle are modern-day saints. I wish that there was a GER class on do-gooders, and I could bring them in for show-and-tell.
Thanks for your time—
Meagan Crosswell
Dear Emmy, Matt, Zak, Nathan, and Lottie—You’re all still on the Waiting List. I have to confess: I made a mistake in when the requests came in, and Matt, you’re the first person on the list.
Dear Francine—
My agent has asked that I never read anyone’s unpublished manuscript, because of these litigious times. I published a novel a few years ago with a narrator whose father pulled out all of the narrator’s teeth with pliers, back when the narrator was a kid, because the narrator bit a child on the playground. The next thing you know, some guy up in Massachusetts contacted my publisher, saying I swiped his idea—that he’d sent me his unpublished (and unpublishable) manuscript, et cetera, et cetera. He hadn’t. It got cleared up, but not before it scared the crap out of me. Had I gone on a giant bender and completely forgotten that I’d said I’d be willing to read said novel? Had I suffered from cryptomnesia? Had I found myself mired in so many first-year essays to grade that I couldn’t invent my own story lines, and filched scenes from a total stranger?
All of this is to say, No, I can’t read your 400 pages. If and when it gets published, I’ll be happy to offer a blurb, if you get your publisher to send me an Advanced Reading Copy, and as long as it’s not a self-published work—another thing my agent says I can’t consider.
Onward—
Emmett
Hey Provost Boyd—
Is that some kind of sexual innuendo, some kind of double entendre: “reserved parking space”? I’m not that kind of guy, Boyd. I appreciate your interest in me, but I’m not your man for such opportunities. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t contact me again, hoping to gain sexual favors. I know where the HR office is on this campus.
Sincerely,
Emmett Grayson
Writer
College of the Foothills
Dear Meagan Crosswell—
You’re in. I just sent an override request to the Admissions office. You’ll need to log on to My College of the Foothills, go to the Banner Web thing, and put in your code number, or something like that.
I look forward to having you in the class.
See you in the Spring—
Emmett
I loved your novel where the main character had his teeth pulled out by his father! Oh, it made me cringe! I could hear the sound of pliers on molars and bicuspids! And the blood!
With admiration—
Francine
Writer
History Department
College of the Foothills
I never wrote a novel about a character getting his teeth pulled out.
Sincerely,
Emmett Grayson
George Singleton’s latest collection is You Want More: Selected Stories (Hub City Press, 2020). He has published eight collections of stories, two novels, and a book of writing advice. Over 200 of his stories have appeared in magazines such as the Atlantic Monthly, Harper’s, Playboy, the Georgia Review, the Southern Review, the Cincinnati Review, and elsewhere. He is the recipient of a Pushcart Prize, a Guggenheim fellowship, the Hillsdale Award from the Fellowship of Southern Writers, and the Corrington Award for Literary Excellence. He lives in Spartanburg, SC. Follow him on Twitter at @HubCityGeorge.
