I began this class with a
fairly firm grip on a sense of my own writing, and with expectations far from
the realities I discovered in my first run through the syllabus. I know I have
a lot to learn about writing (which will be ever thus), but I thought I had the
basics down. WRONG. Like almost all of my homebred education, I came into
writing with a sense of it based on successful osmosis. I really couldn't tell
anyone boo about how to write, I just "knew." Just like I just
"knew" how to do a PHEOC, or holistic math. I never really thought
about teaching someone who doesn't love books as much as I do, as much as my
family does - and thus has learned how to write essentially by reading. We
breed good writers in my neck of the north woods because we spend our lives
immersed in books. I momentarily forgot that, shockingly, everyone isn't like
me.
Conceptually, the
process starts with a big unformed lumpy blob of literary clay, waiting for an
idea of what to do with it. So as artists of the written word, we brainstorm
ideas for our lump, and start to imagine what it could become. We draw
up some ideas, toss them around a bit, and see if they might stick. We poke
around a little in our literary lump with prewriting, free-writing,
playing with words and ideas until we start to envision our message. We
do a little research to see what might be made with our literary lump,
and how it might transform.
And
then the formation begins. First we rough it out in very crude form, arranging
our ideas into physical manifestation. It has come from the tossing around in
our heads and rough sketches to starting to become something. But what
techniques will we use? Will we throw it on a pottery wheel, cut it away with a
molding knife, shape it freehand, add other materials? What elements of style
will shape our literary sculpture? Will rhetorical form will it take? How will
it look as we begin to craft it – to draft our ideas into a rough sense
of form? What will make it appeal most to our audience when we deliver it?
The
same steps that must be taken by an artist sculpting clay have comparable forms
in writing. Ideas must evolve through analysis, augmentation and
experimentation into a written form. In the course of teaching it each step
needs to be taken one at a time, introduced playfully but effectively so that
it makes sense without intimidating inexperienced writers. I like the clay
analogy because who is afraid of clay? The language inexperienced writers
already know is the mud that builds a pie, and becomes clay and then a
sculpture – crafting from the known into the unknown with techniques and
options explored along the way.
I
could write a very specific list of all the things that we have learned and all
the ways that I will teach them, but instead I wanted to focus on the theory of
lesson delivery rather than the nuts and bolts delivery. That is yet to come,
but I have a much better sense of it now.
The
reading and discussions have shaped my opinions about what is “right” and “wrong”
in teaching writing, and I have learned that there are many routes to offer and
take to writing success.
My
own writing has shifted into more deliberate purpose. In some ways my audience
has widened, at least in terms of my academic writing. I am currently doing way
more revising than I have ever done in my life in an attempt to play with the
form, the function (as in who I write it to) and the message itself. My
academic writing until now has been essentially a process of ascertaining what
will please the professor (or teacher) and delivering it. In my writing for
work I know what will please my audience, and I write it, even though it often
bores me due to what I cannot write (but that’s a story for another day!). In
my academic writing I am trying to take a few more risks – at least in this
class!
No comments:
Post a Comment