hors d'oeuvres

From my Final Essay, titled To Apply.

"I sat at my desk, thrumming my fingers on the edge of my laptop, ignoring my Hans Zimmer background music and trying to brainstorm. Interests. The application wanted to know my interests. Really, it shouldn't be this difficult. I had typed out and deleted the same word three or four times. It felt cheesy, and generic, and I was sure that half the student teaching applicants would be half-heartedly writing the same thing. I exhaled loudly, trying to show my frustration to the empty room. There had to be something else I was interested in. But I couldn't think of it, so I pecked out the word one last time. L e a r n i n g.

I enjoy learning. There, you have it. But I enjoy it in a unique way. It's not so much the content as it is the process. And I can't seem to do it halfway; I tend to apply myself completely. I can't write all this into my application. I can't explain my Phases in that tiny text box. My interest-- my hobby-- is "going through phases," although each of the phases is like a short-lived hobby. A hobby helps you relax and puts you in your comfort zone, it comes and goes and that is all right, and it helps you enjoy yourself (Rice, K, 2012; Jacobson, J, 2011). This is exactly how my phases are for me. Although most of my phases only last a week or two, sometimes my phases outlive their life expectancy or don't even have a chance to live. I've liked Les Misérables for over two years, whereas my aromatherapy phase hardly lasted a day."

I like this excerpt because it is so specific. It works well as an introduction by posing a problem and making the reader ask questions. I also like how it begins to explain what my phases are and gives a couple examples.

The Fifth Time is the Charm

Before this semester, I was horrible at drafting. I tended to revise as I wrote and I had thought that was enough. I have learned the error of my ways and now I hardly understand how I managed beforehand. This excerpt is from the first draft of my final essay:

"My phases start with a trigger. In one of my classes a professor mentioned panpipes. Of course, this started a phase. I made two sets out of straws, experimenting a little with each. And then I couldn't help myself, and I bought a couple PVC pipes and my dad and I built a set. I've been trying to learn a couple songs. And it all started with an offhand remark in a class." 

This passage isn't exactly bad. I did include some details, wrote it like a story, and proved how odd my phases can be. But I wanted it to do more than just that. My final draft is practically a different paper. It took a total of five drafts, a personal record, but I finally stopped with something I was happy with. By the time I got to my final draft, I had I chosen different concrete details, reordered a couple sentences, made references to other phases, and added a bit of satire directed at myself. I ended up with this:

"In one of my classes, a professor mentioned panpipes in an offhand remark. Of course, this started a phase. Later, in my apartment, I pulled out some straws, cut them at exactly the right number of centimeters with a borrowed exact-o knife and plugged them with sticky tack and duct tape. I used yarn to keep the straws together (it was leftover from my crocheting blankets phase), and tried to play a few songs. They made a tiny, airy sound, but I was hooked. I listened to panpipe music and found places that made bamboo sets. My next stop was at a hardware store. I bought three strands of quarter inch PVC pipe, and the next time I was home, I enlisted my dad to help me measure and cut the pieces. Originally, that set was two-tiered, but I quickly realized that was overkill and reduced it to just eight notes. I duct taped them together carefully, clogging them with a penny held in place by duct tape. I sanded all the rough edges, and found some panpipe sheet music online (much simpler than piano, which I had tried to learn a year beforehand). This was all within two weeks of that original comment in class."

I have learned the importance and beauty of drafting, and I'll never go back.

Idealistic Versus Realistic

I sit in front of my laptop, my knees pulled up and leaning on the desk. My fingers rest on home row as if frozen in place. I can't order my thoughts. I turn on my Hans Zimmer Pandora station, put my laptop on the floor, and begin to clean. I stand all my books up straight, put papers in their folders, crack my neck and back, put my hair in a bun, move my dirty socks to the hamper, put my backpack in the closet, put my snacks back into the pantry. I'll wash the dishes or vacuum if I'm really stuck. Then, I come back to my desk and sit upright. I pull out scrap paper and a pencil, and begin to doodle. It is easier for me to be creative through drawing than writing, so I often have to get my 'creative juices flowing' by sketching a bit.

As I shetch I think. I plan. As ideas come to me I type them out. Ideas for a point, for phrasing, for a theme. Then I face that mostly empty word document again and begin to order it all. Since I've been drawing I have an idea of where I want my paper to go, what I want it to say. Half the time I don't even keep those original ideas, nonetheless they are important. Once I have it organized I begin to fill it out, make complete sentences, work on integrating the theme. Then I cut and past and reorder everything so it fits better. I add to some paragraphs, delete other paragraphs, break some paragraphs into two. I keep reworking it, trying not to get attached to any idea or phrase so that I can bring myself to delete it if I decide it doesn't work for the piece.

Then I read it and change it some more, and add an introduction and conclusion. And read it again. Then, I save it and close the document. I try to leave it alone for a couple days. I come back and read it again. Sometimes I frown and delete whole sections but other times I am surprised by how brilliant I was. 

Often I will ask someone else to read it, and while they do I come up with questions to ask them to see if things came across right or worked the way I intended. "What did you think of the title?", "Was the humor misplaced and irregular?", "What parts confused you?", "What do you want more information about?", and so on. They explain to me their comments, tell me other things I hadn't thought to ask about, and I make a few more changes. 

Free

I like freewrites. I like sitting down and writing without stopping, not caring what comes out, letting one thing lead to another.
It releases my mind to think things it has never thought before.
                 To draw conclusions
                 To draw connections
                 To take things farther than I would have in my natural brevity
                 To discover how I really think about it
Freewrites are fuel, and fire.

They are difficult. It's hard for me to write without stopping, without correcting my spelling, without clarifying what I wrote. Sometimes I think I don't have enough thoughts on an idea to write about it for five or ten minutes. But it works. It helps me discover. The disorganization helps me organize. And if everything I wrote turns out to be junk, it's ok. I wrote. And someday I might come back and find a gem.

Samson

My strengths as a writer. I have been entrusted with them, as Samson was with his strength. When Samson let his hair be cut he lost his strength. It is a reminder to keep tabs on my strengths and improve them and use them for God's glory rather than my rash impulses, and unlock my writing potential.

I have developed a willingness to revise, add and delete. A willingness to let go of what I have written in the name of finding something better.

I like details and stories, and I attempt to entrance my reader with them.

I am bursting with ideas. My life has given me much to write about, and my imagination runs wild.

I do not have patience for many things. But surprisingly I have the patience to work with a paper or story and mold it. I can sit with it and craft it, and I enjoy doing so.

One Foot In Front of the Other

If I want to get anywere with my writing I've got to start taking steps in that direction ('and soon I'll be walking out the door').

I need to work on my transitions. It's as simple as that.

I need to learn to simplify what I'm saying, to be more concise.

I need to change my attitude and believe that people really do want to read what I have to say, that they care about my thoughts.