Rediscovering the Writer in Me
“Hook the reader,” they said… “It should be easy,” they said. It seems as if though it never fails. There I sit, metaphoric pen in hand, at war with the blinking cursor that is anxiously waiting to move across the screen. There is no telling how long it will be until the devilish cursor is satisfied; it may be minutes, hours, or maybe even days until a creative spark ignites. Described by past English teachers as an excellent writer, I can’t help but nervously chuckle at the little they know, beyond the finished product, of the struggle I go through when developing a work of writing. Distant memories, however, remind me that there was in fact a time when it was actually “easy.” At an early age, I was fascinated by words and the stories I could create with them; this fascination allowed me to discover myself as a writer, but eventually lose myself in the process, and ultimately has lead me to this journey of rediscovering myself once more.
Discovering the Written World
As a child, I held an ever-growing curiosity about the world of reading and writing. From the moment I was able to grasp a pencil in my hand, I became capable of expression in a whole new way. One distinct image comes to mind when I think about my first experiences with the expansion of my writing: a Little Tikes yellow picnic table. A night never passed where I didn’t sit hours on end at that table learning how to write with my mother. From the simplest of three-letter words to the more complex, words left and right began making sense. What an invigorating feeling it can be for a four year old to apply her extensive knowledge of the alphabet into writing her own name. Practice makes perfect, they said, and so I did.
Motivated by a passion for learning, I found myself writing at every possible moment. It was not a bother to me that my sentences weren’t perfect, that they didn’t showcase some complex structure, or that they lacked grammatical refinement. What mattered was that I could alter my thoughts into creative forms of unspoken text that told stories about my own life and about the never before imagined. Poetry, especially, was cathartic to me as I released all my emotions onto paper. Journals, diaries, notebooks, you name it, were full of my masterpieces. It wasn’t until I was given my first computer, a giant Dell brick-of-a-computer that barely fit on my desk, that I began to actually write short stories that in my mind resembled novels. It was not long before I possessed floppy disks full of my neatly typed out stories.
As I progressed through elementary school, my experience in story writing became beneficial to my overall growth as a student and as an individual. When I was in the 4th grade, a time when I was still discovering myself as a writer, a teacher of mine encouraged me to apply to a summer program meant specifically for aspiring writers. The program was to be held at the University of Texas at El Paso for three weeks and was only accepting the best of the best to be a part of it. Doubtful that I would even be considered, I submitted an application to the summer program with one of my short stories attached. To my surprise, I was accepted. It was there that I learned about the different aspects of writing and the doors that it could lead to. I even had the opportunity to have a compilation of the work I created published into a book. That is something that to this day, I am very proud to have accomplished. A significant notion I learned that summer is that in order to mature in your own writing, you must learn from that of others.
Transitioning into middle school and a higher level of learning, I began to take interest in the writing of others through reading. In the 7th grade I was assigned to read Gone With the Wind. Who would have guessed that an assignment would turn out to be among my favorite books? This fictional love story based during the Civil War, demonstrates a struggles to cope with change and that of rediscovering one’s self. This book not only entertained me, but opened my eyes to who I was and who I wanted to be as not only a writer, but as an individual. Another one of my favorite books would come later in life during my last year of high school. That book is none other than Tuesday’s With Morrie. This story about a dying man and the lessons he shares with his younger friend serves to shine light on our perceptions of life and death. It was here that I learned to not be afraid of what life has to offer. As Morrie once said, “If you’ve found meaning in your life, you don’t want to go back. You want to go forward” (Albom, 1997).
I often look at my old poems and stories in the dusty boxes saved in my mother’s closet. I can’t help but compare them to my writing of today, and look back in admiration at the imagination I had and the emotion filled into those pages despite being so young. I often wish that I still possessed such carefree imagination and devotion to writing as I once did. What changed? The difference between then and now is that back then I wrote not because I had to, but because I wanted to.
The Struggle is Real
As a child, writing seemed to come so naturally to me, but as I grew older and concepts in English class became more complex, so did my ability to transfer coherent thoughts onto paper. I believe this to be due to many reasons. For one, teachers fill our heads with countless rules on how to build essays effectively, which in my case blinds me to what really matters: content. “Include five paragraphs, with an introduction, body paragraphs, and conclusion, ” my teachers always say to me. Well what if I don’t want to write just five? Can I be rebellious and write six, or maybe even seven? This is just one of the many insignificant rules, that although as insignificant as they are, haunt me as I attempt to develop a piece of writing. I often wonder what happened to the writer I once was.
When I compare my approach to writing today to that of many years ago, I realize a change in motivation. I often overthink writing assignments because they are usually attached to a grade. Sometimes trying too hard to be that perfect straight-A student gets inside my head, and I focus on all the wrong things. I begin to stress over the simplest of matters and try to fit into a certain standard form of essay writing in order to meet that grade requirement. Here is where the struggle of writer’s block comes into play.
I am one of the many who believe they have chronic writer’s block, which in my case seems to be very true. I can literally stare at a blank Word document on the screen for hours without a single word having been typed. When I finally get the inspiration to write an idea down, I type and type, feeling every key under my fingertips as words flow out of me, only to ultimately press the delete key with dissatisfaction. As I sit here typing this Literacy Narrative, I have realized that this assignment has been no exception to this little problem of mine.
According to Mike Rose’s article on writer’s block (1980), I am not alone. In a study conducted on undergraduate students, he found that those that experience a block when it comes to writing all have similar approaches. They stick to certain rules so concretely that it limits the overall fluidity of their work, leaving no room for expansion. After reading this article, I realize that I do this exact same thing; I am guilty of following rules and planning my essay around them. When growing up, I did not have any of these constricting rules. I was oblivious to the concepts of a thesis, the structure of paragraphs, and other aspects of that sort.
With the notions stated above, I have fallen short of the writer I once made myself out to be. By beginning to overanalyze the things I write, I have reached a point to where I have completely stopped free writing because I no longer have the time, and because I find it more and more difficult to fit my writing into the “standard” ideas that my teachers have instilled into my head.
Rediscovering a Passion For Writing
As I sit here finishing this paper, I have come to realize what kind of writer I was, what kind of writer I am, and what kind of writer I would like to be. With my child self in mind, I have come to ascertain the idea of rediscovering myself as a writer. I understand that I need to hold certain rules that I have learned more loosely and allow for growth rather than crippling my capabilities. I have also realized how invigorating it can be to commit myself to writing not only for a grade on an assignment, but also for myself.
I believe that there is always room for improvement within every individual. And while I still feel a sense of hesitation when it comes to my overall approach to writing, I know the little girl who loved to read and write whenever she could get her hands on paper is still with me. She just needs assistance and some time to be rediscovered. In the words of Scarlett O’Hara, “After all, tomorrow is another day” (Gone With the Wind).
References
Albom, M. (1997). Tuesdays with Morrie: An old man, a young man, and life’s greatest lesson. New York: Doubleday.
Mitchell, M. (1936). Gone with the wind. New York: Macmillan.
Rose, M. (1980). Rigid rules, inflexible plans, and the stifling of language: A cognitive analysis of writer’s block. In E. Wardle & D. Downs (Eds.), Writing about writing: A college reader (pp. 532-543) Boston, MA: Bedford/St. Martin’s
Discovering the Written World
As a child, I held an ever-growing curiosity about the world of reading and writing. From the moment I was able to grasp a pencil in my hand, I became capable of expression in a whole new way. One distinct image comes to mind when I think about my first experiences with the expansion of my writing: a Little Tikes yellow picnic table. A night never passed where I didn’t sit hours on end at that table learning how to write with my mother. From the simplest of three-letter words to the more complex, words left and right began making sense. What an invigorating feeling it can be for a four year old to apply her extensive knowledge of the alphabet into writing her own name. Practice makes perfect, they said, and so I did.
Motivated by a passion for learning, I found myself writing at every possible moment. It was not a bother to me that my sentences weren’t perfect, that they didn’t showcase some complex structure, or that they lacked grammatical refinement. What mattered was that I could alter my thoughts into creative forms of unspoken text that told stories about my own life and about the never before imagined. Poetry, especially, was cathartic to me as I released all my emotions onto paper. Journals, diaries, notebooks, you name it, were full of my masterpieces. It wasn’t until I was given my first computer, a giant Dell brick-of-a-computer that barely fit on my desk, that I began to actually write short stories that in my mind resembled novels. It was not long before I possessed floppy disks full of my neatly typed out stories.
As I progressed through elementary school, my experience in story writing became beneficial to my overall growth as a student and as an individual. When I was in the 4th grade, a time when I was still discovering myself as a writer, a teacher of mine encouraged me to apply to a summer program meant specifically for aspiring writers. The program was to be held at the University of Texas at El Paso for three weeks and was only accepting the best of the best to be a part of it. Doubtful that I would even be considered, I submitted an application to the summer program with one of my short stories attached. To my surprise, I was accepted. It was there that I learned about the different aspects of writing and the doors that it could lead to. I even had the opportunity to have a compilation of the work I created published into a book. That is something that to this day, I am very proud to have accomplished. A significant notion I learned that summer is that in order to mature in your own writing, you must learn from that of others.
Transitioning into middle school and a higher level of learning, I began to take interest in the writing of others through reading. In the 7th grade I was assigned to read Gone With the Wind. Who would have guessed that an assignment would turn out to be among my favorite books? This fictional love story based during the Civil War, demonstrates a struggles to cope with change and that of rediscovering one’s self. This book not only entertained me, but opened my eyes to who I was and who I wanted to be as not only a writer, but as an individual. Another one of my favorite books would come later in life during my last year of high school. That book is none other than Tuesday’s With Morrie. This story about a dying man and the lessons he shares with his younger friend serves to shine light on our perceptions of life and death. It was here that I learned to not be afraid of what life has to offer. As Morrie once said, “If you’ve found meaning in your life, you don’t want to go back. You want to go forward” (Albom, 1997).
I often look at my old poems and stories in the dusty boxes saved in my mother’s closet. I can’t help but compare them to my writing of today, and look back in admiration at the imagination I had and the emotion filled into those pages despite being so young. I often wish that I still possessed such carefree imagination and devotion to writing as I once did. What changed? The difference between then and now is that back then I wrote not because I had to, but because I wanted to.
The Struggle is Real
As a child, writing seemed to come so naturally to me, but as I grew older and concepts in English class became more complex, so did my ability to transfer coherent thoughts onto paper. I believe this to be due to many reasons. For one, teachers fill our heads with countless rules on how to build essays effectively, which in my case blinds me to what really matters: content. “Include five paragraphs, with an introduction, body paragraphs, and conclusion, ” my teachers always say to me. Well what if I don’t want to write just five? Can I be rebellious and write six, or maybe even seven? This is just one of the many insignificant rules, that although as insignificant as they are, haunt me as I attempt to develop a piece of writing. I often wonder what happened to the writer I once was.
When I compare my approach to writing today to that of many years ago, I realize a change in motivation. I often overthink writing assignments because they are usually attached to a grade. Sometimes trying too hard to be that perfect straight-A student gets inside my head, and I focus on all the wrong things. I begin to stress over the simplest of matters and try to fit into a certain standard form of essay writing in order to meet that grade requirement. Here is where the struggle of writer’s block comes into play.
I am one of the many who believe they have chronic writer’s block, which in my case seems to be very true. I can literally stare at a blank Word document on the screen for hours without a single word having been typed. When I finally get the inspiration to write an idea down, I type and type, feeling every key under my fingertips as words flow out of me, only to ultimately press the delete key with dissatisfaction. As I sit here typing this Literacy Narrative, I have realized that this assignment has been no exception to this little problem of mine.
According to Mike Rose’s article on writer’s block (1980), I am not alone. In a study conducted on undergraduate students, he found that those that experience a block when it comes to writing all have similar approaches. They stick to certain rules so concretely that it limits the overall fluidity of their work, leaving no room for expansion. After reading this article, I realize that I do this exact same thing; I am guilty of following rules and planning my essay around them. When growing up, I did not have any of these constricting rules. I was oblivious to the concepts of a thesis, the structure of paragraphs, and other aspects of that sort.
With the notions stated above, I have fallen short of the writer I once made myself out to be. By beginning to overanalyze the things I write, I have reached a point to where I have completely stopped free writing because I no longer have the time, and because I find it more and more difficult to fit my writing into the “standard” ideas that my teachers have instilled into my head.
Rediscovering a Passion For Writing
As I sit here finishing this paper, I have come to realize what kind of writer I was, what kind of writer I am, and what kind of writer I would like to be. With my child self in mind, I have come to ascertain the idea of rediscovering myself as a writer. I understand that I need to hold certain rules that I have learned more loosely and allow for growth rather than crippling my capabilities. I have also realized how invigorating it can be to commit myself to writing not only for a grade on an assignment, but also for myself.
I believe that there is always room for improvement within every individual. And while I still feel a sense of hesitation when it comes to my overall approach to writing, I know the little girl who loved to read and write whenever she could get her hands on paper is still with me. She just needs assistance and some time to be rediscovered. In the words of Scarlett O’Hara, “After all, tomorrow is another day” (Gone With the Wind).
References
Albom, M. (1997). Tuesdays with Morrie: An old man, a young man, and life’s greatest lesson. New York: Doubleday.
Mitchell, M. (1936). Gone with the wind. New York: Macmillan.
Rose, M. (1980). Rigid rules, inflexible plans, and the stifling of language: A cognitive analysis of writer’s block. In E. Wardle & D. Downs (Eds.), Writing about writing: A college reader (pp. 532-543) Boston, MA: Bedford/St. Martin’s