Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Six Degrees of Greatness

One of the fun, pop culture games we used to play at parties when I was in college was called "Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon." The game is, I believe, still known, if not popular. The premise of the game was to name an actor and trace a path of other actors with whom that actor had appeared in movies all the way back to Kevin Bacon and do so in six or fewer names. The game was based on the conceit that Kevin Bacon was such a popular actor, appearing in numerous films, that you could trace almost anyone back to him. I'm not sure how Kevin Bacon got swept up in all of this, but the fact is that most of us live within six degrees of one another. (I'm particularly thrilled to be within three degrees of Jennifer Aniston, but she still doesn't return my calls.)

At the heart of the "six degrees" concept is the idea of connection, or for those who like to complicate matters, interconnection -- it's probably all the same thing. The point is that people are connected in ways they often don't suspect. The same is true of ideas. Our form of government, for example, can be traced from our founders back to thinkers like John Locke and, ultimately, Plato. The roots of our democracy lie in the ruins of ancient Greek civilization. But when it comes to the realm of ideas, how are these connections made? Most often, it is through writing.

In the same way that the technology I'm using to write and publish this to you is closely connected to the first printing press that produced the Gutenberg Bible and revolutionized the dissemination of ideas, those very ideas are connected with one another. As a student, you are at the heart of this connection. Everything you read, every lecture you attend, every question you ask is part of the great adventure of discovery that our species has been on since the very day we appeared on the planet. In a very real way, you have access to a connection with the entire sweep of human history. Furthermore, while you may not realize it yet, you have a connection to the far reaches of the future. That connection may be tenuous or great depending on what you do with your life, but the connection exists just as surely as you do.

Why am I telling you all this? Because it remains as true today as it was in the distant past: the most effective and long-lasting way to communicate your ideas is through writing. That may not seem like much, but consider that almost everything you enjoy springs from an idea. Your i-Pod? It didn't exist until someone had the idea to invent it. Television? Radio? Music itself? All ideas. In fact, if you attend Wright State University, you go to school at a place named after two people who had many ideas, several of which led to the invention of the aeroplane.

"Cogito, ergo sum." That's the Latin for, "I think, therefore I am," René Descartes' insightful proof of existence. In a very real way, to think is to live. Ralph Waldo Emerson echoed this idea when he wrote that the unexamined life isn't worth living. What he meant, I think, is that the depth and quality of our lives comes from examining it, from using our critical and creative faculties to understand ourselves and the world we live in. That's the underlying reason for academic inquiry. It is only one way to understand ourselves, but it is a serious and important way to do so. Whatever else you may want to accomplish while you're in school, don't miss the opportunity to learn all you can about yourself, others, and the world in which we all live. Intentional pursuit of that goal may well lead to greatness.

Thursday, June 5, 2008

Have you WAC-ed your WID today?

In theory, students who pass ENG101 and 102 (or their equivalents) have the foundation to make it through their remaining writing intensive courses. But in practice, many students hit writing assignments in the GenEd and their major and discover that what worked in English 101 and 102 doesn’t fly. They swear they did what the professor asked and yet they earned a D. What’s the deal?

As one of the people at WSU whose job it is to help faculty teach writing in the major, I spend a good deal of my time trying to keep this from happening. What I’ve discovered is that the problem often occurs when writers mistranslate WAC (that’s Writing Across the Curriculum) into WID (Writing in the Disciplines).

I just got back from the International WAC Conference in Austin, Texas where, along with three other WSU faculty members, I presented a panel on the challenges of translating WAC to WID. This panel grew out of work that began in Fall 2007 with Sarah Twill in the Department of Social Work and reviewing its key points here might help you understand what I mean by the need to translate WAC into WID.

When I first met with Sarah, she was feeling frustrated by her students’ writing. She felt her instructions were clear but she simply wasn’t getting what she asked for. Essentially, Sarah wanted students to describe a visit to a social work agency and respond to what they observed, comparing their practical experience to the textbooks’ treatment of similar situations. And her instructions were quite clear for someone familiar with the discipline. For the description, she wanted an objective report of what happened – details of the observation that could stand up in court as straight, clear fact. No judgments. No personal opinion. No extraneous detail. For the response, she wanted some evidence that the students were making connections between what they read, what they witnessed, and what that meant for them as a social worker.

The trouble lay in the language used. In discussing the assignment with students, Sarah asked for narrative and reflection, terms familiar to many students from their first year writing courses. But in first year composition classes, narrative typically means writing a story. Students are encouraged to include detail and dialogue to convey emotions and attitude. Reflection assignments in first year writing often ask students for a very personal response, one that doesn’t include outside sources. That’s not quite the narratives or reflections Sarah imagined.

The disconnect occurred because students were (understandably) focused on duplicating the ASSIGNMENTS they’d had in 101 and 102 rather than duplicating the THINKING they’d done in 101 and 102. Despite a difference in style, Sarah’s request for narrative and reflection still asked students to think in the same ways that 101 and 102 instructors ask their students to think. Her use of these terms wasn’t wrong. They were discipline-specific to social work, just as the use of them in 101 and 102 is discipline-specific to English composition.

So what’s a student to do? How can anyone possibly know every discipline’s specific meanings? The key is to focus less on remembering particular first year writing assignments and more on remembering the thinking you did to fulfill those assignments.

A good resource for helping you do this is Rich Bullock’s The Norton Field Guide to Writing, a common text in first year writing at WSU. It lists the most common genres in academic writing. Each genre chapter includes a section on key features – the elements expected when writing in this genre, regardless of the assignment. When Sarah and I reviewed the chapters on narrative and reflection, we saw that she wanted these same features in her students’ writing. But because of the difference in discipline, she needed students to express the information differently than they would in an English class. By pointing this out to her students and providing some examples of what she was expecting, she saw instant improvement in student performance.

For example, both my ENG101 literacy narrative assignment and Sarah’s request for narrative ask for ‘vivid detail.’ We both want students to include clear and specific detail to help readers picture who, what, where, when and how. But how we define ‘vivid’ is a little different. In my world, it means to add emotion and color; in Sarah’s it’s about painting a clear picture of the facts.

So if you’ve got a paper to revise by the end of this quarter and are feeling confused about why what worked before isn’t working this time, it might be useful to stop thinking about 101 and 102 as courses that helped you learn writing across the curriculum and consider them in terms of thinking across the curriculum. Take the WAC foundation in thinking gained in 101 and 102 and apply it to your WID. How are writing assignments in different disciplines beyond 101 and 102 asking for those same types of thinking even though the final product may be expressed differently?

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

What is revision?

As a first-year teaching assistant, a fourth-year writing tutor, and what feels like a gazillionth-year student, I have my own opinions about what revision is. As a freshman in college, I’m positive those ideas were very different. As I read my first year composition students’ papers, I’m also positive their ideas about revision are different than what mine are now. So, I guess that leaves this question - what is revision, really?

Thanks to Peggy Lindsey, a fellow English teacher with much more experience than I, I now have a handout about revision that I use in all of my first year composition classes, be it English 101 or 102. This handout is divided into two main sections: one with inexperienced writers’ definitions of revision (which many of them call by different names, such as “reviewing”) and one with experienced writers’ definitions of revision. Here’s one sample of each:

Inexperienced writer’s definition: “Reviewing means just using better words and eliminating words that are not needed. I go over and change words around.”

Experienced writer’s definition: “It is a matter of looking at the kernel of what I have written, the content, and then thinking about it, responding to it, making decisions, and actually restructuring it.”

In case you didn’t notice, there’s quite a big difference between those opinions. Something I have realized over my years as a writer, which is something I try to stress to my students now, is that revising does not mean just using the synonym finder or copying and pasting a sentence into a different part of the paper. And it definitely does not mean just fixing the grammatical errors your teacher has marked.

When I give my students comments on their rough drafts, drafts I expect them to revise at least once more, I usually make some marginal comments throughout the paper, and I tend to mark the grammatical mistakes I see them making repeatedly. However, I’m much more interested in larger, overall comments, which I usually write at the beginning or the end of the paper. These are comments about big problems I see with organization or logical fallacies or an unsupported or unidentifiable thesis. These are the big things I really want students to work on for the next draft, but they tend to ignore them and head straight for any comments about little things, like grammar.

Even though it can seem like writing a draft was enough hard work, it’s important to remember that a draft is probably just the first step and should be followed by an equally important step: revision. And to me, revision sometimes means writing an entirely different second draft based on what I learned from my first draft. I will at least alter my thesis if not change it entirely. I merge paragraphs together, delete some entirely, add a few, and move others around. When I write a first draft, I figure out exactly what I’m trying to say (or I at least get a better idea), so it only makes sense I would still have some big changes to make.

If you really want to take advantage of the revision process, do more than just change a word or two around or fix a comma here and there. Take a step back and look at the big picture, think about what works and what doesn’t work in a draft. If you have a lot of big changes to make, when you begin to revise, you might want to start with a blank page. Other times you will be able to work within the document you started for your first draft, but don’t get caught up in the words that are already there or the teacher’s comments about little things, like spelling and grammar, when there are bigger problems to deal with.


A link to a helpful document about revision (from the UNC writing center's webpage)

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Pet Peeve with Writing Assignments #1

My students HATE strict guidelines for their written reports . . . well, some of them do anyway. They wonder why I impose them. Three of the main reasons for my strict guidelines are (1) uniformity of grading, (2) encouraging correct analyses, and (3) teaching the students how to write like businesspeople for businesspeople. Read through my rationales and let me know whether you buy them.

The strict guidelines help take some of the subjectivity out of my grading. If everyone turns in the same type of paper, consistency of grading is easier. If you were a student who submitted the paper without an element (for instance, an executive summary), and got a lower score for not including it--but that element was not in the guidelines for the assignment--would you consider the grading fair? With strict guidelines, I hope I can clearly convey expectations and thereby help students understand what they need to do to get favorable scores.

Second, some of my guidelines encourage my students to write (and thus think) systematically about their topic. To a degree, there are “best practices” for conducting the strategy analyses I assign to students in my business strategy classes, and I use strict guidelines for the write-ups on those analyses as a way to encourage students to do the analyses the right way. By dictating how ideas in my students’ papers are to be written up, I push students to organize their thoughts, not just their papers.

A third reason for the strict guidelines is that I’m training students to write reports in a way that businesspeople will like. There are certain formats that business audiences for written reports are familiar with, and it often helps students/graduates to learn and work within those formats when composing reports.

Now that I’ve given the reasons for my strict guidelines, I have to confess that I often wonder whether my approach is flawed. In fact, my approach has a couple of risks that I’m aware of (and probably numerous risks I’m not seeing).

Strict guidelines can stifle worthwhile innovation. Why would a student try another approach to writing a paper if it ran counter to my guidelines? If you were the student with a creative idea for fulfilling my assignment, you could do the extra work of clearing your idea with me before submitting your paper, but it’s easier to simply conform. Consequently, I don’t see much variety, and I miss out on opportunities to see potentially useful originality. Still, I’m COMFORTABLE taking this risk. Most of the papers I’ve collected that differ from my guidelines do NOT reflect creative genius.

Another concern is that, given the way I’ve compiled them, my guidelines could be a disorganized hodgepodge. Many of the guidelines were added to the list as a result of shortcomings I’ve seen in papers from prior quarters. Particularly when I see the same mistake in more than one student’s papers, I’m inclined to made additions to my list of guidelines in order to avoid seeing those deficiencies again. There’s a risk that the list of requirements will start to lack organization. Just like any writer, I need to ensure that there’s a logical organization to my guidelines to promote their readability and usability (I admit I haven’t done that in awhile). Similarly, there’s a risk of the list becoming too long and onerous (I’ve never really analyzed that).

What do you think? Do you buy my rationales for having strict instructions? Are there other important rationales? What do you think the downsides to strict guidelines are?

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Now What?

I'm sure that just about all of us who have ever written anything longer than 2-3 pages have faced those moments when the wellspring of ideas dries up and we are left halfway through a story or research paper not knowing where to go or what to do. In moments like these, we throw down our pens, pencils, computer keyboards, or other writing implements, grab our hair, or bald scalps, and scream audibly or silently, "Now what?"

I was recently faced with this exact situation as I struggled to write a short piece--which was based on a true story. You'd think that, being based on a true story, it would be as easy as pie. I did, but that's where I was wrong. Knowing how the story ends doesn't make writing it any easier. There are always decisions along the way. What details should be included? What should be skipped over? What's really important? Had I taken the time to ask and answer these and a few other simple questions, the story--which, in its final form, turned out to be 4 pages--could have been written in one night rather than over the course of 2 weeks.

If we compare that instance with another from earlier this year, the point will be clear. A few months ago, I had an assignment to write a 10-12 page paper on a chapter from a book by James Joyce. What was different was that though I'd written nothing, I'd answer the crucial questions in my mind. A full draft was required in class the following day, and with a thesis decided on and points outlined, at 10:00 PM, I sat down to write. Within 10 hours I'd written a full, 11-page draft.

There is a clear difference between 4 pages in 2 weeks and 11 pages in one night. What is the difference? While writing the 11-page paper, I never once had to stop and think, "Now what?" Having those "now what" moments is detrimental to writing efficiently. Those moments literally force you to stop writing. So what can you do to prevent those "now what" moments? Outline. It doesn't have to be a beautifully formatted list of points, sub-points, ideas, and possibilities. Keep it simple. Know what you want to say. Know how much you need to say. Know where to start and where to end.

Your outline can be as simple as a list of ideas or as carefully planned as a list of what points need to be made in each paragraph. Basically, there's this exchange: The more you figure out before you start writing, the less you'll have to figure out while you're writing. Asking yourself questions beforehand is the best way to combat and eliminate those "now what" moments.

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

Toe tapping or busting a move… SOC200 2nd Paper

Regardless the genre, music stirs people emotionally or moves them physically (and in some cases, does both). The soon due (May 16th) SOC200 writing project for my Social Life classes involves examining a song that relates to a social issue or social problem. If you recall, the first project essentially was a “compare and contrast” between personal and social issues and problems involving terms like “self-efficacy” and “locus of control.” Now, we step beyond the basics and try our hand at an everyday practical application: hearing social issues and problems in music.

The choice of song is yours: select one that describes/illustrates a social issue or problem (or one of its causes or consequences). The style or type of music is also your choice, with the only restriction being that it must have lyrics; environmental sounds, clapping thunder, or a tree frog symphony at midnite are not acceptable for this project. If you want to flex your foreign language skills, you may select a non-Anglophone song; just be sure to include original and English translation of the lyrics. Regardless your musical bent, now you have an opportunity to explore music you never ventured into... and get credit for it!

Song information necessary includes artist/band, writer, title, album, year of production, and your reason for selecting this song. I urge you NOT to select a favorite love song or relationship song because students who do so get caught up in the personal level of issues and problems and are often are unable to get beyond the psychology of it (after all, this is a sociology course).

Name ONE social issue or problem in the song. You already know what makes an issue or problem social (rather than merely personal). Keep that distinction in mind as you are thinking about and writing this paper. Some issues and problems “could” be either personal or social, but your duty is to notch it up to the social level. To do that effectively, think about the ripple effect that situation creates for the larger society if enough people experience or are part of the problem or issue (as either victims or perpetrators).

Discography or biographical information about the song writer, performer, band, or lead singer can be found on line by Google-ing the person’s name or song title. Unless it is an unknown garage band, there will likely be official and unofficial sites popping up from your search engine. This part of your paper requires at least 250 words AND must be paraphrased (NO DIRECT QUOTATIONS -- but in-text citations are still required).

Lyrics can usually be found by running an internet search of the song title. The same title might be two different songs; be sure to get the one you really want. If you copy and paste it, be sure to convert it to the font of the rest of your paper. While you are there, be sure to get the album cover graphic (required for your cover page).

So far, so good… Now we get theoretical. Based on the tone and perspective of the song, determine which of the 4 sociological theories best explains the song: functionalism, social-conflict, SI, or feminist. State why you think it fits.

Conclude your paper with lessons learned by completing this project.

The assignment sheet and grading rubric (posted in the Course Studio) provide the details of this project. I have discussed most of them in this blog, but other requirements are use of MLA formatting, in-text citations, and cover page elements.

Pegah and I are available to look over your draft to let you know how on-target you are, but you must bring us a hardcopy to class or during office hours prior to the due day (no e-mail submissions please). Also, if you plan to make use of the Writing Center, make an appointment soon. This is their busy time of the quarter and un-arranged walk-ins will likely be unserviced immediately. Plan ahead. Remember Parkinson’s Law!

Please respond or acknowledge the usefulness of this blog in understanding or completing your project. Thank you for your time.

Friday, May 2, 2008

The Truncated Writing Process, or... Do as I say and not as I do

Last quarter I wrote an eight-page paper in 3+ hours. And the thing is, the next day I actually turned said paper into my professor. Why would I, a perennial student of writing and a tutor who espouses the many virtues of using a well-paced writing process, write in such a seemingly reckless manner?


Four reasons:
1) I'm insane
2) I'm insane
3) I was able to employ a truncated version of the writing process that helped me endlessly in my pursuit to churn out a strong paper in a short period of time.
4) I'm insane

So, the bottom line is, do not do what I did.

But I imagine we have all been there...for whatever reason, many times of our own doing, and other times not, we find ourselves in a crunch and have to produce something pronto. And while we all talk about the importance of the writing process, few classes other than English 101 or 102 actually allot students adequate time to process themselves into strong writing. Most classes set a due date for a paper and that's that...no second, third, or eighth chances.

Or perhaps it is not even a lengthy paper that is hanging over our heads but rather something as simple (and as potentially daunting) as an essay exam, where we have to produce cogent, thoughtful, well-written responses within a clear time limit.  Whatever the pressure cooker is and however high the temperature is set, it is never a good idea to throw the writing process out the window. And if one is able to adequately truncate said process, then it need not be defenestrated.

The hallmarks of a strong writing process involve brainstorming for the strongest idea, free- writing or outlining to get a general feel for what the paper needs to/will include, drafting to form a rough sketch of the paper, then getting feedback from a friend, teacher, tutor, or even yourself once you've removed yourself from the writing for a while, and then revising. And then revising again. It has the potential to go on for a while...

But again, it is not always realistic that a typical college student could go through that long a process. So what is the solution? How does one (if necessary) attempt to pack process into such a shortened time span?

Well, the simplest form of the answer is, "Do what you can." The longer answer goes like this:
  • Let's assume you have your topic already selected. If it truly is crunch time, you will want to be writing, not thinking about what you should write about. Some teachers even shape the paper topics themselves. And in the case of an essay exam, the question is obviously right in from you.
  • Get to the point...fast. I have yet to post on the virtues of the thesis statement, but let me talk about it for just a sec. The thesis statement--that wonderful sentence that you can usually find towards the end of the introductory paragraph of most strong essays--has the potential to be your savior, even in a bind. Clearly stating what major points your paper will cover and then allowing those points to keep you on track as you write will guide you through the remainder of your drafting. And the wonderful thing is, it will also guide your reader, and papers that flow are papers that are easy to love.
  • Leave yourself time to stop and think...even a few minutes. One you've finished the quickest, roughest draft of your life, hopefully you can step away even for a little while, just to separate yourself from the writing you have just emerged from. This rest will give you time to reboot ever-so-slightly before jumping back into the abyss and refining what you've just written.
  • Revision is still important, especially if you are short-shrifting the rest of your process. If you are able to read through your work a few times, you will most likely pin-point some areas you want to expand, delete, reword, or rethink. You obviously will not be able to write three more full drafts, but you might have time to read through the paper three more times and make a few changes that will make your work all the stronger.
I like to think I know a lot about writing, but I am not infallible. I wrote a paper in just over 3 hours. It was not a good idea for me, and it's not a good for you, either. But instead of hours, maybe you are trying to write a finished paper in 3 days. A truncated writing process could help you out immensely. If you get in a bind, are facing an in-class essay assignment, or are taking an essay exam, there is way to avoid sacrificing your entire writing process. It is not an ideal situation to find yourself in, to be sure. It can, however, help you create the best work you can under the circumstances.

Interesting post-script to my little anecdote: Since my prof was obviously not as fast a grader as I was a writer, I received my paper back about a month after I turned it in. Lo and behold, I was bestowed an A-. Go figure...my truncated writing process paid off. ***

*** = Results may vary. This example is not necessarily indicative of typical 3-hour essay outcomes. 

Sunday, April 27, 2008

When time doesn’t fly

On my first day here at Wright State, I remember thinking that I would NEVER graduate. Not because I’m unmotivated, but just because four more years seemed like such a horribly long time to spend in classrooms.

Now, I have about five or six weeks left until those four years come to an end. Quite honestly, it scares me. In high school, the next four years were really the only part of my future I ever worried about, but they went by SO fast. Until now.

Usually, the spring is a time when every week is filled with countless activities, and this spring is no exception. But this time, busyness isn’t helping the time go by any faster. Instead, the clock seems frozen. This quarter just will not end. Each assignment looms over my head and taunts me. And when I actually sit down to do that dreaded studying or homework, I feel like I’m sitting at the computer or staring at the same book for days. Minutes seem like hours. It’s excruciating.

Especially when it comes to writing. I’m an English major and a writing tutor. I should enjoy this stuff, but recently, it’s just been one more thing on the to-do list. The only good thing is that I think I can finally identify with the students who come into the Writing Center complaining of their hatred for anything to do with writing. For the longest time, I just couldn’t see how it could be that bad, but I think I’m starting to get a glimpse of their perspective.

Luckily, having spent the last three years coming up with suggestions for others about how to make writing less painful, I’ve had at least a bit of success by taking my own advice. What works for me?

1. Doing the research first. Researching and writing are two very different things. In academic writing, the point is to add your own, fresh ideas to already existing research. How can you write about your new ideas if you don’t even know what the research already says? And worse, researching as you write can make it awfully tempting to plagiarize. We’ve all heard about plagiarism a hundred times, and we all know the consequences. Avoid the headache and know your topic before you even open Word.

2. Planning it out. The worst, most agonizing way to write is to sit down and do it all at once. If you absolutely must wait until the last minute to write your essay, at least spend a significant amount of time beforehand THINKING about what you’re going to write. Just having ideas can make the process run much more smoothly.

3. Taking breaks. Don’t force yourself to sit in front of a computer screen for hours on end. Your writing will start to sound terrible, and you’ll no doubt end up with carpal tunnel.

4. Getting myself to care. When I can make myself care about what I’m writing, the process is usually a lot less painful. If your topic is really that bad, perhaps you ought to choose a better one. And if you can’t choose another topic, at least try to find something endearing about your topic and run with it.

5. Giving myself rewards. A lot of times, I’ll think to myself, “Just finish this page, and then you can eat that candy bar.” Do whatever works for you.

So now, I’ll click post, I’ll stand up and stretch, and then I’ll go eat my Milky Way.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

I Am Doing This Instead Of Things I Should Be Doing

So. It's one o'clock going on two in the morning and I've put off two different writing assignments. Massive, 8-12 page stories that require thought and attention and love and care. But no. I'm watching Falco music videos and getting ready to play video games with my friend from Texas. I'm a procrastinator. None of this amateur-crastination stuff for me. I've considered majoring in the subject, and it's hurt me in a number of ways over the years.


An anecdote: I almost failed out of the sixth-grade. An elaboration: Every time my Social Studies class would assign a project, I would usually (read: always) put the project off until the day after it was due. There would be a lot of "I'm just putting the last few details on it, Mrs. Social Studies Teacher" going on when asked where my results were. It got to the point where my best friend (the one who's going to play games with me via the internet in a minute) wouldn't be my partner when project time came around. It was bad.


Luckily, I got over it. Projects still came around, but I realized that I wouldn't win any friends nor keep up my normally laudable grades if I kept putting off projects. When assigned a group, I became the jovial, awesome guy who came up with great ideas and sweet talked others into doing the majority of the work. Alone, I got used to turning in sub-par projects. Projects, mind you. Not papers. Three dimensional, physical objects used to show off one idea or another. Papers were something I put off too, and I'm going to parlay the one into the other in a reasonable way in the following papers.


Mainly, I learned that no matter how awesome and spectacular you may be ( and I am totally and completely awesome and spectacular), putting assignments off is a horrible, horrible, instantly rewarding but ultimately damning idea. If you have something that needs done, for the love of all that is good and holy in this world, do it. If you think that you can do it tomorrow, you can't. It will not work. Because tomorrow you will think you can put it off till the next day. Tomorrow, I will probably study for a Geology test and play Guitar Hero. The day after that I will work on stuff for my other job and maybe write a few creative words. The day after that will be...Friday? Thursday? Regardless, I will not be working on my writing. Then the weekend will come and I will sleep and do laundry and do just about everything except write. Then Sunday night will roll around and I will type like the devil. I will type like there is no tomorrow because, for all intents and purposes, there IS no tomorrow. And my work will be really, really bad. I will know that I can do better, and it will be even worse because I claim to be a creative writer. Which means I plan on writing, creatively, for a living at one point in my life. And I cannot bring myself to write creatively. Instead I'm writing this blog entry about procrastinating.


There's not a whole lot that needs to be said about procrastination. It's a bad habit and it needs to be broken. So you, procrastinating reader, can break it with me. Dedicate your time. Say that after x amount of time on one project, assuming you do your normal, day-to-day assignments on time, you can spend y amount of time doing something enjoyable. This is a tried and true writer's block cure, and it works for basic projects and papers as well. Spend a few hours in the library researching or in front of the computer typing knowing that you have an hour or two or guilt free bliss waiting for you and you will find the work comes a lot easier. The same principle applies to hiking (I like hiking). Hike for an hour knowing that you have a ten minute break waiting for you and you'll find that it seems like a lot less effort than wondering when the next break will be. Allot your time as needed.


Another thing to do is write notes. Post-It notes. Lots and lots of them. If you put off papers, you probably put off other things. So what I do, usually, is write a Post-It note that says something informative, like "Massive paper. You should probably be writing that and not playing Super Nintendo." (I know myself pretty well) or something inspiring like "You will fail college and live in a box if you do not write something. You will be a disappointment to you family. Open Word and type or no one will ever love you." They help a lot more than you would think. I put these notes on my computer monitor so I see them every day and when I become disenchanted by them I take it down and re-write it so that I know that I WILL fail and I WILL be a loser if I don't get those papers written.


You know, I think I'm going to go write those papers now. You probably have something you should being too. Just saying.

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Imagination or Reality? The First Paper

There are at least 300 students out there directly and personally interested in this blog entry… and likely a multitude of others that indirectly can learn from it. The 300 are in my spring quarter SOC200 Social Life writing intensive courses. Members of the multitude might include you, someone not in my classes (but who might have journalistic interest or general inquisitiveness).

For nearly 2 decades I have taught introductory sociology courses at a variety of schools (business colleges, 4-year colleges, and universities). And, no, I am not burned out on sociology. I am still convinced that it is not only interesting but can be very practical. The stuff covered is stuff seen in daily life, in personal lives. My version of Introductory Sociology is intended NOT to be one of those courses that gets shelved and forgotten once the term is over and the credit is earned. Social life surrounds and infuses us. We are not its hapless witnesses or passive bystanders, we are the actors living it 24/7 (remember Goffman’s dramaturgy and Meade’s game stage).

Within the next 10 days, students will be crafting their first (of two) writing assignment for my SOC200 – Social Life gen-ed course. I heartily appreciate the fact that nearly all of those students are NOT sociology majors. But, it is my duty to impart an appreciation for the method and content of that “systematic study of human social patterned behavior.” My goal is to get students to (at least for one academic quarter) wrap their heads around practical aspects that present themselves in their own lives in a sociological vein.

The first writing project this quarter involves definitions, examples, clarifications, MLA format, citations, and the 2000 US Census. At first blush, it might seem like a laundry list of sociological “stuff.” However, there are non-sadistic reasons for this project.

Delving into the definition of sociology frames the subject matter: human social behavior. Applying C. Wright Mills’ “sociological imagination” completes the picture: appreciation of the intersection/connection between individuals (biography) and their social contexts (societal structures and processes). This is the first chunk of the paper.

The next part forces students to split hairs and fine-tune a discussion of the differences between personal and social aspects of issues and problems. Using terms like “locus of control” and “personal efficacy” help the student to relegate behaviors to the personal realm or to elevate circumstances to social conditions.

That completes almost half of the total paper. With the basics groundwork covered, the student now shifts to a specific social issue or problem of her/his choice. To underscore how widespread it or its effects are, statistics are pulled from the Statistical Abstract of the United States. No, that is not busy work. It gets the student into census data and practice reading and interpreting tables and charts of demographic information.

With the selected social issue or problem in mind, the student then chooses one of the 4 sociological theories we discussed the first week of class (functionalism, social-conflict, feminist perspective, and SI) to come up with causes (independent, X variables) and consequences (dependent, Y variables). Students must explain and defend their choice of theory. The correct choice derives from the students explanation of its “fit” to the selected issue or problem. The paper concludes with lessons learned by doing this project.

When Pegah (the Teaching Assistant) or I evaluate these papers, we use a grading rubric that includes not only content, but mechanics, proper use of MLA format, readability, writing style, and clarity. A copy of the grading rubric is posted in the Course Studio.

I hope this further explains and clarifies not only the requirements for the paper, but also the practical reasons for it. One final reminder: Pegah and I will look over drafts to ensure that students are on target. But, please, bring a hardcopy to class or office hours for us to see and discuss the paper. Trying to discuss via email or fax is not effective.

Good luck. And please respond here or by email to let me know if this blog was helpful to you. Thank you for your time.

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Flow When You Show

“Bob was a builder. He was about 3’6” tall and weighed 68.37 pounds. He had brown hair but he always wore a yellow construction helmet. He had beady black eyes and a thin smile. He always wore a tool belt and blue overalls. He also always wore a plaid shirt.”


How’s that for a description? It has some pretty good details, right? Ok, I’ll admit it. That was a baited question. When asked to give more description in a paper, this is what most students will do. While the details are great, descriptions like this present a few problems:

  • They usually overuse pronouns
  • They break up action in a paper
  • They sound like they are meeting a requirement

Let’s look at pronoun use in our example. Every sentence, besides the first one, starts with the pronoun “he.” Repeatedly using pronouns, or anything else for that matter, in a paragraph makes for a very choppy read. It makes it difficult for the reader to get into a rhythm. This monotony is one reason why the previously described style of writing is not the best.


Another thing that these descriptions do is that they break up action. For example, all the information in the sample description is good information. However, it comes all at once. Besides being choppy on its own, it hinders the flow of the paper. Assuming that the rest of a paper flows, a chunk of choppy, descriptive text can trash the paper.


A requirement list is like a list of ingredients, giving the essentials of what is needed to complete a paper (or recipe). Let’s say that the given paper requires a description. This is one ingredient. Imagine that someone took all the ingredients for a cake, individually baked them, and then mixed them all together. That would make for a disgusting cake. Just like a cake is more than just a random mixture of ingredients, a paper is more that just a compilation of required elements. A chunk of description in a paper is like a chunk of salt in a cake.


So what is a better way? Keeping with the cake analogy, mix up the ingredients before you bake them. Spread your descriptions throughout the paper, mixing them with action. Tell how Bob pushed his yellow helmet back as he wiped the sweat from his plastic brow. Tell how his plaid shirt ripped on a nail while he was reaching for a tool on his belt.


Description is to show, but when you show, make it flow.

whacked assignment… or opportunity to excel

“He just dreams up writing nightmares,” is a comment that I honestly hope students in my classes never utter.

When drafting and developing a writing assignment for students in my gen-ed and honors classes, I take a step back and ask myself 2 questions: (a) Would I want to do this if I were one of my students? And (b) Does the assignment relate practically to student realities and course content?

As an undergrad and a graduate student, my best writing involved assignments that were engaging (some topic I could wrap my head around) and related to my major/specialty areas (social sciences in general and sociology in particular). Sadly, some of those assignments were little more than busy work and seemingly poorly conceived. Those indeed required creative writing! I promised myself that if ever in the position of directing or facilitating student writing, the effort and product would be worth not only the student’s time and effort in its production, but also my time and effort to read it -- in short, making it a learning opportunity and experience for both of us: writer and reader!

Okay, so what if you have one of those dreaded whacked writing assignments?

  1. Be certain you got it right. Often, assignments are based on readings, lecture notes, class discussions, or outside materials.
  2. Ask for clarification from the prof. They are getting paid to impart knowledge, not befuddle. Make them earn their money!
  3. If the expectation is still murky, “make it your own.” Draft what you think is asked for. Ask the prof (or teaching assistant, who is the likely grader anyway) to see if you are on track. At the very least, it will show that you not only care about the assignment but are also proactive about your grade. Don’t be afraid to shatter the prof’s notion that you are just another one of those students who attempts to manage only minimal work in the hope of a maximum grade.

These 3 common sense steps (in order of increasing recourse) ought to help take you out of the nebulous cloud of an ambiguous writing assignment and provide the opportunity to polish your writing skill, pull an optimal grade, and impress a prof with your motivation to excel.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Give Yourself a Little Credit

Here I sit, in front of the ol' computer screen, mere moments after finishing a group tutoring session with two capable and intelligent students, each of whom wrote a rough-but-promising first draft of an essay describing a memorable event in their lives. As I reflect on the session, however, the content of their papers becomes fuzzy; all I can remember is unending self-deprecation.

"Yikes! That was a terrible sentence," one client blurted out in the middle of reading her paper.

"Whoa...this is so badly written. I'm sorry," the other said when reading her draft.

And those aren't the only examples I could give. There were many other times at which both students interrupted their reading, apparently to let me and the other group member know how aware they were that their first drafts were not sterling and polished. It's almost as if simply reading the draft without the commentary would label them not only bad writers, but frighteningly unaware bad writers. The running commentary seemingly passed from one student to the other, as they each seemed too self-conscious to focus on reading their papers. The most common phrase uttered for the hourlong session was, "I'm sorry."

Somewhere between the fifth and tenth apology I got to thinking...self-deprecation is not uncommon among writers at any level. Personally, I couldn't tell you which sin I have committed more: thinking my writing was complete garbage and being wrong, or feeling like I wrote the perfect piece of genius literature and being...not quite right.

Self-doubt--and, occasionally, self-loathing--fits the artistic mold like a glove, and whether you love to write or hate to write, whether you are enrolled in writing-intensive English or are merely writing one 3-4 page essay for a history class, being a college student means adapting to the artistic mold, too. As a result, even students who don't fancy themselves "writers" fall prey to the same self-doubt that plagues those willing to label themselves with such a dubious distinction.

Taking all these thoughts into consideration, I arrived at a very simple conclusion, one cleverly disguised as a question: Why apologize?

If ever there was a unified message of this blog, it is that writing is a process. The road from first draft to final draft may vary in length, but there more than likely will be a road. You cannot expect to bloom precious literary foliage after only one try. The idea is to plant the seeds...or lay the groundwork...or whatever other mixed metaphor you can think of. In time, your ideas will fully bloom.

So give yourself a little credit...and a little time. Your masterpiece is merely in progress.

Now, if only I could have said that to my clients....

A little of this, A little of that

I know what you're thinking, "Who's this girl, and why is she blogging now?" Well, the truth is, I have spent most of this quarter trying to think of something to blog about. I came up with a few ideas, but none seemed blog-worthy. I suppose I'm somewhat of a perfectionist.


Let me start with an introduction. I am a tutor at the University Writing Center, and a freshman at Wright State. You may be wondering how a lowly freshman can get a job at a wonderful place like the Writing Center, right? It was simple, really. As a senior in high school, I participated in a program called PSEO (Post-Secondary Education Option), which enabled me to take college classes for free, recieving high school and college credit at the same time. In this program, I took the first two English classes in the General Education Requirement along with a few others that I got to bypass here at Wright State. It was a very good experience, and I recommend it to anyone who is still in high school.



I guess now I'm supposed to talk about writing, right? One thing I found that has made me a better writer is reading. I'm a very active bookworm; I read about a book or two per week. I've found that in reading, I have greatly improved my vocabulary, as well as grammar. I have even found myself noticing grammatical mistakes in published books. Reading a lot really familiarizes you with the english language; you start to learn how to figure out the meaning of words based on their context.



For instance, you read a sentence that has a confusing word in it, so you want to find out what that word means in order to understand the sentence better. Nine times out of ten, you can look at the rest of the paragraph or even just the rest of the sentence to find the meaning of that one word. Once you have an idea of what the word means, you can replace it with a synonym and store it for future reference. If you do this often enough, with enough words, eventually it will build up your vocabulary, which will greatly improve your writing.
So there it is. A little about me, a little about writing. More to come soon.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Random Blurts

We've all heard it happen, I'm sure. Everyone is sitting, talking, having an enjoyable time, then, suddenly and without warning, someone randomly blurts out something that seems to be completely disconnected from the previous topic of discussion. Chances are, you’ve been in one of those situations, or perhaps you caused it. You’ve given, or received one of those puzzled looks, and you’ve felt the awkward silence.

This unfortunate situation not only happens in speaking but in writing as well. The main problem is that, while you can explain yourself for random utterances in person, you can’t always be there to explain the random things in your paper.

Transitions are a crucial part of speech and writing. Without them, it is nearly impossible to maintain a decent flow of ideas. The point of a transition is to effectively connect two ideas. Just like when you are speaking, when writing, don’t just give an idea. Connect one idea to the previous one. Your paragraphs in an essay are your ideas. To be effective, start with a topic sentence to show the relationship of the paragraph to the one preceding it. At the end of each paragraph, give a sense of completion, and end on a note that leaves the door open for a smooth transition to the next paragraph.

Smooth transitions ensure that the flow of ideas will be understood more easily by readers. Using transitions effectively in writing, and with speech, help put a stop to those awkward moments caused by Random Blurts.

________________________________________________
Now check the transitions in what you’ve just read:
Title: Random Blurts.
Opening sentence, paragraph 1: connects title to the reader.
Closing sentence, paragraph 1: describes the situation.
Opening sentence, paragraph 2: connects the situation to writing.
Closing sentence, paragraph 2: shows the way poor transitions affect writing.
Opening sentence, paragraph 3: presents the importance of good transitions.
Closing sentence, paragraph 3: gives ideas of how to make a smooth paragraph closing.
Opening sentence, paragraph 4: brings up the benefits of smooth transitions.
Closing sentence, paragraph 4: relates transitions in speaking and writing back to the title.

Thursday, February 7, 2008

Who Cares About Writing Anway?

Words are like children. Great care must be given to them when they come into existence.

In the years that led me to become the writer that I am today, I started as someone who didn't really like writing. It took far too much time. It was tedious and tasteless. I didn't care for it, but it was a necessary evil. Reports were tolerable, but essays left a bitter taste in my mouth--as if I'd been drinking unsweetened lemonade.

I didn't honestly enjoy writing until I took English 101 during my freshman year at Wright State. I can still remember writing a vivid narrative of the time my brother and I made a silent film. It all led up to the moment that I stood on a rooftop and jumped off, landing on a dilapidated trampoline that did nearly nothing to break my fall, but it was for the camera--and it looked great. I had fun writing it, and the "A" I got on it was nice too.

During freshman year I also began writing poetry, which I understand may sound strange since I was a Computer Science major at the time. I found that poetry allowed me to express myself in ways that C++ code could not. Poetry was personal. Besides that, ordinary people had greater appreciation for reading a page of poetry rather than code. Before I'd gotten through the middle of my sophomore year, I decided that English was for me, and I changed my major to Technical Writing.

Writing is, and perhaps always will be, a tedious task for me. It is a challenge, but I have never been one to back away from a challenge. Words, like children, must be tended to. You can't just let them run wild. Looking after your words is something you will do for the rest of your life. I once thought that writing was an isolated task, something that had no use outside of a writing class. Over the years I've seen otherwise. Words and writing are a major part of our lives. Choosing your words carefully when you write trains you to do the same thing when you speak, and unless you are awesome at saying the right thing the first time and every time, writing is something that will be useful for the rest of your life, in school and out of school.

If you don't believe me, stay tuned for more. I'll prove it!

(Did you see that? I just created a thesis. I plan to prove that writing affects every aspect of our lives. The funny thing is, I wasn't trying to form a thesis. You'll see, we use the conventions of writing every day without realizing it.)

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Don't Expect a Creative Title

Since most of the other blog contributors have introduced themselves, I figure I ought to do so as well. But the problem is, I’m not sure where to start. Unlike many of my fellow tutors, I am not creative. I can’t remember the last time I’ve written a story or a poem or really anything even somewhat entertaining. And there are plenty of writing assignments that I flat-out loathe.

But, I’m an English major.

Sometimes I’m not sure how it happened. I changed my major a million times, and I finally realized I better decide on something. But now it’s funny—everyone has an opinion ready when I tell them I’m an English major. Some people laugh. “Wow, must be hard to study the language you speak.” Others are actually somewhat impressed. Someone once told me he thought studying English for four years would be the equivalent of spending four years in prison. I took it as a compliment, and I was rather smug the remainder of the day.. or year.

But in the back of my mind, I know how it happened. Without writing, I think my brain would explode. The problem is, I think too much. All the time. I analyze, I worry, I plan, I obsess, I daydream. And most of it is useless. However, sometimes I stumble upon a gem. A great idea that I just need to get down on paper before I forget. Other times, I have to write down what I’m thinking just to get it out of my head and be done with it. But most of all, I write to understand and organize my thoughts—I couldn’t live without lists.

So how does this relate to anyone other than me? Maybe it doesn't. But basically, I’ve realized that writing is so much more than fulfilling an assignment. Of course writing can be painful, but it can also be liberating. A few years back, I found a quote that pretty much sums up how I feel about writing. So when I’m sitting in front of computer screen grudgingly typing an unwelcome essay, I remember why I write:

"I write entirely to find out what I'm thinking, what I'm looking at, what I see and what it means."
—Joan Didion

Monday, February 4, 2008

Developing a Writing Process

In order for writing to be the helpful thinking tool I know it can be, I’ve learned that I need to give myself plenty of time to think, read, and write about the subject at hand. Through years of practice of writing long papers that deal with complicated ideas, I’ve found the most helpful way to work my way through these papers is to rely on the writing process I’ve discovered works best for me.

I have to point out, however, that I don’t believe there is one “correct” writing process for every writer to follow. Each writer should experiment to find out what works best for him/her. For some people, that might include a lot of time researching and analyzing what others have said. For someone else, it might include outlines and diagrams or color-coded drafts that symbolize different organizational patterns. And this process will likely change in some way from paper to paper or depending on how much time you have to deliver a final document.

It took me a long time to find a process that works (for me), and I’m sure I will constantly modify it, but here’s an overview of the process I currently use:

  • Overall, I need to leave myself ample time to think, write, and rewrite building off what I learn along the way. In other words, I can’t wait until the last minute.
  • I usually need to begin by actively reading what others have said about the topic I want to write about. Then, I compose responses to what I read, allowing myself to question what I read, summarize what I read, add my own thoughts, and decide what I still need to find out.
  • Then, I keep files of these responses and other notes I write, and these files serve a similar role to rough drafts – they give me a place to work out my thoughts.
  • All throughout the process, I constantly move back and forth between what I’m reading and thinking and writing, and I document as much of it as possible so that I have plenty to work from when I’m ready to write my final draft.
  • One thing I find most helpful during this process is talking about my ideas with others. Having someone who will listen to my ideas and tell me when they make sense and when they don’t can make a big difference. Not only am I forced to put my thoughts into words (which I may not have had to do yet at that point), but I am forced to acknowledge my shortcomings, such as holes in my logic or ambiguity in what I’m trying to say.
  • Finally, I need to leave myself time to write something, let it sit, and then come back to it (an hour later, a day later, a week later – it just depends how long I have to complete the paper) with fresh eyes and perspective. When I do this, I often find that my argument has changed a little or that there are parts of what I previously wrote that aren’t as clear as I thought they were.

So while I’m not implying this process will (or should) work for everyone, I thought it might be helpful to share what works for me. Of course, what might be even more helpful would be for others to add to this conversation and share what they’ve found to work.

Friday, February 1, 2008

eat your way to good writing... reading diet works!

I am imagining that we are not trying to duplicate a "Writing for Dummies" blog. I also imagine that if you are reading this, you care about your writing skill.


I am a sociologist, not a professional writer or novelist. But, regardless the profession, everyone ought to pay attention to the effectiveness of her or his writing. A maybe less than obvious reason for effective writing is that the words are “singing” a cappella. They stand alone to convey and connote meaning and intention. You do not have the luxury to be standing over the reader’s shoulder able to make “You know what I mean” kinds of comments and clarifications. In this era of instant messaging, text messaging and short order communications involving nearly real time give and take, we sometimes forget that formal writing is NOT a conversation. In a very real way, it is a monologue -- a single channel, one-way communication.

Thinking of our writing that way, we clearly see how effectively communicative it has to be. Hmmm... the list of such "things" could include resumes, term papers, snail mail letters, and e-mails. Okay, let's concede agreement. How can we tweak and fine-tune our writing skills?

I am not attempting to blog you to a best-seller, but here are some grounded, earthy ways to help get the polish and effectiveness you crave:

1. Monkey see, monkey do. Include quality in your reading diet. Without getting too psychological here, the brain thrives on pattern and reinforcement. What we read helps shape the way we speak and write. Reading quality written work (books, articles, literature related to your major or career) cannot help but contribute to improved writing skill.

2. Learn a new tongue. One of the best ways to learn the grammar, syntax, and other intricacies of our own language is to learn a new one. Not only does that force us to know the mechanics of our own better, but can also increase our English vocabulary. Our language is built upon several languages (Latin, Greek, and a good chunk of the Romance Languages). In fact, it is estimated that 40% of English comes from French and its related Romance languages. Even if you knew no French, you would be able to recognize and figure out a goodly portion of the words in a French book. Additional languages also provide alternative and perhaps even new world views and expanded mindsets.

3. Say it. Do not separate your language skills by partitioning them into speaking time, writing time, and reading time. Use your language skills regularly. Do the talk. Gradually increase your vocabulary by retiring or augmenting worn out phrases. After all, if everything gets the label of "awesome" then everything is somehow cheapened and truly less than awesome. Then, when it comes to writing something, you do not have to spend so much time trying to dredge up the words, phrases, and structures that have been lurking but left unused in your mental filing cabinet. Like Darwin said: "If you don't use it, you lose it!"

Three is a good number to stop at. More than that will be forgotten as soon as you leave this blog. Try one. Better yet, share a technique you have mastered that seems to contribute to your writing skill. After all, our goal is better writing for all (including us).

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Jet Boy: An Autobiography

Taking a gander at Jason and Kerri's posts, I feel like I should have a little introduction as well. Nothing elaborate, but something to help readers who care know who I am.


To be perfectly frank, I'm awesome. This may sound biased, but it's the sad truth. I am cursed with being really awesome. Some may even call me fantastic, but I settle for awesome.


To go into detail, I'm a Creative Writing major here at WSU. I'm a junior. I've gone to about fifty-bazillion schools. Now that I'm here, I work not only as a tutor and as a student, but I'm the Features Editor of the school's newspaper, The Guardian. It's not a job I love or a path I really want to follow once I graduate, but it's not bad by any means. I started at WSU as a Computer Science major because I was pretty handy with technology and Java and I done built my own computer. I wanted to make video games for a living. Now I plan on selling short stories written on the back of post cards on some rainy corner, not far from my cardboard box of a home. I used to write for several websites, picking up small projects here and there or writing a video game-related article once in a while. I had a regular gig over the summer writing for a video game website, but I couldn't do that and tackle everything at school at once. Also, in my past I worked for an ice company where I drove what was basically a giant freezer with an engine in front of it that handled about as well as a giant freezer with an engine in front of it. I've got nowhere to go but up.


The most important part of all that is my major, for obvious reasons. If I was from a different discipline, I'd have a different approach at writing. But I take the low road and make up stories instead of researching facts. I like it. So, like Jason, I'm not really worried about the formality of my posts. As long as I convey some sort of message to the reader, I'll sleep easy. This post is an exception, but it should act as a lens through which to view my posts, to help distinguish them from my peers' posts.


I write for fun, which is pretty much the main reason I'm here at all. I like writing. I love writing. I had a side project dedicated to writing. I write stories for class and I write in notebooks and I write poems for people I really care about on days that are important to them. I write on scraps of paper. I write in the air with my finger, spelling out words that no one will ever read. And I think that is super cool.


I'm not even going to try to tie this to a writing lesson or concept. This is only here for reference, not to educate. But I've got all sorts of cool things to talk about in the future, and I expect that the other tutors do too. I foresee some overlapping of topics, which is also cool. Anyway.

Monday, January 28, 2008

allow me to introduce myself

I want this first post of mine to be a chance for me to introduce myself to those of you who are reading this. I want to do this for a few reasons. First, I think it’s nice for those of you floating around out there in Cyberland to know something about the people whose advice or complaints or arguments you’re reading. Second, I’m not even sure all of the contributors to this blog really know much about one another, and as this blog will likely spur conversation among us as well, I wanted to share at least a little about myself with my fellow contributors. Finally, I think this probably has something to do with the identity I’m constructing for myself as writing.bytes. blogger – fairly transparent and informal. So here goes…

As others have mentioned, those of us who contribute to this blog come from varied backgrounds and currently hold various positions in relation to writing. I currently fall into the categories of teacher, tutor, and student. I have to admit, I find this a rather interesting role to be in. Just a year or two ago, I would have never imagined I would be in this position. Let me explain my situation a little more.

I’ve been studying English at the college level for almost six years now, and am planning to do it for at least four more. But before I applied to graduate school a mere three months before graduating undergrad, I had no clue what I was going to do with a B.A. in English with an emphasis on technical/professional writing. Originally, I thought maybe I’d be an editor or write for a magazine. One of my friends from high school and I always said we’d start a magazine together one day. (She’s now an editor at Seventeen, so at least one of us stuck to our original goal.) But then I was accepted as a graduate student and began studying composition and rhetoric. Additionally, this is my fourth year working at the University Writing Center, where I’ve served as tutor and online coordinator.

So as you can see, I pretty much immerse myself in writing. I work on discovering my own identity as a writer and discovering how to best use the writing process as a thinking and problem-solving tool. I work on finding ways to best transfer what I know about writing to others who are struggling to figure out how this writing stuff actually works. I catch myself unconsciously editing the daily junk mail I receive. I attempt to juggle writing the fifteen page paper for a class I’m taking and grading the twenty-five papers my students just handed in. And because I apparently just can’t get enough, I’ve also agreed to join this blog. I look forward to being a part of this conversation we’re starting (which, of course, is really just a part of a much bigger, ongoing conversation), and I look forward to learning from my fellow contributors and our readers.

And because I feel that I haven’t really addressed our purpose in publishing this blog, I offer a piece of advice in closing: Students, it’s not a great idea to go to the Writing Center during the time you are supposed to be in class. In fact, it’s probably counterproductive.

Sunday, January 27, 2008

Lost in the Blogosphere...,

I am wondering if, since this blog is about Academic Writing, there is an across-the-board rule that each post must be grammar-perfect, to the letter.


Cuz if that's the case, I ain't gonna do well on this thang...

So, writing.bytes. is a new baby in the blogging world...so much so that, with few entries currently posted, common readers--that's right, I'm talking to YOU, and will be for the remainder of this post--may not know quite what to expect.

Allow me to quell your fears by letting you know that you're not alone.  I don't know what to expect, either.  I'm not sure what I will impart about this work, this craft, this art.  I'm not quite sure what I'm doing just yet.  I am, to be quite colloquial, lost in the blogosphere.

I come from a hallowed school of writing where the revered Dean was Professor Me (although I would have to give a lot of credit to Professor Roger Ebert, too).  I worked as a film critic--first for the prestigious Online Film Critics Society, and later for nothing more than my own personal obsession--for about five years.  My writing was completely self-taught.  "Grammar School," as many refer to elementary school, was strictly that; "Writing School" took place in my house, in front of my computer screen, talking about how incredible American Beauty was (and it was...don't argue with me).  Not even high school did much to shape me as a writer, certainly not in any 'academic' sense (which, unfortunately, is also the case with many of my clients at Wright State University's Writing Center).

Yet even for me, someone completely confident in his own writing ability, an introduction to true academic writing provided me with something incredibly worthwhile.  It showed me that writing can be taught...it is not just a gift bestowed on a person in the womb.  It also taught me that writing is a process, one that can consistently produce strong work if followed faithfully.  (Following said process is, sadly, something that has always eluded me, as evidenced by this, my wildly rambling inaugural post on writing.bytes.)  In short, everyone can write.  Everyone can write.

Why am writing all this?  Some of you might be confused ("where are the lectures on subject-verb agreement?!?!?!" you must be asking yourselves) so I will try to clear it all up.  This blog is a forum on the many different faces and many different perspectives of academic writing.  Special attention should be paid to the intangible diversity of said faces and said perspectives.  It will be hard to focus on this subject from any other perspective aside from my own.  Yet my own Writing-centrism actually makes me a part of a much larger spread of humanity.  We are all "Writing-centric"--we all have our own perspectives on writing, academic or otherwise. Some of your views may be different from mine, but the exchange of ideas that magically happens over this high-tech Internet wizardry--the conversation we have together--will bring us together in...well, Academic Writing Harmony, if you will.

Oh yeah, I promised I would get to the point.  Here it is: you, dear reader--be you student, teacher, literary scholar, or average-joe blog-hopper--are not alone.  I am just as unsure of my place in this new venue as you are.  I am lost in this blogosphere just like you.

But I intend to settle in and find my home.  I invite you to join me.

Saturday, January 26, 2008

Outlines: Keeping students coloring inside the lines since forever.

Outlines. I make almost all of my clients at the University Writing Center do them, several times if necessary. I love them. I don't do them often enough, but I love them. Why do I love them? Because spending ten minutes writing a basic outline can save you hours and hours of sleepless nights trying to figure out where in the world your paper's going. I speak from experience. Without an outline, writing a paper can feel like punching yourself in the head, trying to make the next paragraph appear.


What do I mean when I say "write an outline"? Simple. Write down your ideas, your thoughts. Put them into order. Bam. Outline. Sometimes it's crazy simple, like when you're writing a paper on a personal experience. Start with the beginning and make two line notes of what happens next. Nothing more. Do that until you reach the end, and you'll be staring at an outline.


I'll go ahead and provide an example. Let's say I'm writing a paper on, I don't know. Moving. I've moved a lot, so I'll write my imaginary paper on when I moved from Texas to Wright State.


Decided to move

Told my friends

Drive to Ohio

Move into dorms

Say bye to mom

Make friends

Start classes


There's not much there, and some of it's extra information. But I know where my paper's going and now I can add details. This is where you go back and add some information on each event, breaking them up into smaller paragraphs for more specific topics. You might even find a better "topic" to make your paper out of. For example, I had to say goodbye to my girlfriend when I left. That was a significant moment, and I may want to focus my paper on that. Or maybe I want to start with the drive, focusing less on what happened after I got to Ohio and more on what led up to it. There's always options.


So let's say I decide that I want to focus on the drive, and bring up my past life throughout it. I'm a Creative Writing major, so this is probably what I would do, given the chance. So I rearrange my topics and add some details. Now my outline would look something like this:


Day one of drive

-hotel room

-mom in the room, reading

-wondering if I made the right decision


Why I left

-weather

-atmosphere

-I knew Ohio and had friends here (or so I thought)


More about past in Ohio

-Church

-High School/middle/elementary


Day two of drive

-different state

-mom watching television

-will I keep in touch with my friends?


Friends/Relationships in Texas

-Best friends right before I left

-Friendships from earlier

-Girlfriend

--Saying goodbye

-Did I stay in touch with my friends from Ohio, or did I know I wasn't going to talk to them again?


Day three of drive

-close to Ohio


Days before I left

-tearful goodbyes

-burn bridges or stay classy?

-packing van

-leaving home for the last time


Conclusion:

Campus in sight OR I drive through the town I grew up in


Look at that. I've done and wrote myself a really good outline, and I've listened to four Nick Cave songs since I started this article. That was cake. CAKE. And each of those sub-topics can be further expanded, but at this time I would probably start typing away, switching to a different paragraph if I got stuck. I can go back and add sensory details once I have a working draft, and I can fine tune it and refine the dialogue and add all the razz-a-ma-tazz polish after that. But spending twenty minutes jotting down a rough outline of my paper saved me boat loads of time. I know where my paper is going, and I know how it's going to get there. And I do all that on the back of a piece of scrap paper in a coffee shop or while waiting for a professor to show up or whenever I have some time to kill.


If you're writing a research paper, the same principles apply. Grab a few books from the library, write down some interesting topics, some quotes, and then write down your outline. Then go back to your outline and find places where you can add more details, more quotes. Keep your outline on you when you read texts so you can reference it and find places where you can use good information. I can't emphasis the usefulness of outlines enough, but don't take my word for it. Try it out with your next paper, and I'll give you your full money back if you don't find writing your paper significantly easier.

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Show and Tell: How Billy’s Turtle Can Help You Become a Better Writer

How many times do you hear it?
It goes on all day long
Everyone knows everything
And no one's ever wrong
Until later...

Who can you believe?
It's hard to play it safe
But apart from a few good friends
We don't take anything on faith
Until later...

Show...don't tell...

("Show Don't Tell" from Rush's 1989 album, Presto. Lyrics by
Neil Peart)


Students in Wright State’s developmental composition courses are often asked to write narrative essays. On the surface of it, there doesn’t seem to be much connection between the narrative form – telling a story – and other forms of academic writing. I think this superficial appearance can sometimes leave students feeling that they are doing less than college level work. The truth, however, is a different story.

There are a number of connections between the narrative form and other types of academic writing, but I want to focus on just one element: "show and tell." In class and in their writing center sessions, students often hear their teachers or tutors exhorting them to “show, don’t tell.” In some ways this must be very frustrating.

First, the very way we talk about narratives most commonly is to describe it as “telling a story.” Suddenly, this description gets turned on its head, leaving students to wonder “how can I tell a story if you won’t let me TELL?” A secondary factor in the frustration might exist on a more psychological level. After all, this emphasis on “show and tell” must bring on juvenile flashbacks of second grade when little Billy brought his turtle in for show and tell.

What may not be readily apparent in this emphasis on showing, not telling, is that the concept is critically important to success in just about any academic discipline. I remember in Math classes being asked to show my work, not merely give or “tell” the answer. When scientists report on their experiments, they are asked not just to “tell” their results, but to describe or “show” their methodology as well so that other scientists can assess the validity of the experiment. And in just about any course where writing takes place, one is asked not merely to assert or “tell” a claim, but to back it up or show logic and evidence that supports the claim.

This is a “real world” issue as well. Advertisers often use statistics, testimonials, and demonstrations to show how effective or valuable their products are. With the Presidential primary season in full swing, the candidates are jetting from state to state to tell us why they are the best choices to lead their parties and ultimately the country. They’re doing a lot of telling to be sure, but many of them are pointing to their past achievements as a way of showing us what they will do as President.

Even our slang and clichés bear evidence of the value of showing versus telling. “Actions speak louder than words.” “Seeing is believing.” Even the saying, “Money talks, bullsh** walks” is ultimately expressing the concept that “talk is cheap” and some action, demonstration, or “show” is required to lend credence to what is being said.

Rather surprisingly, “show and tell” turns out to be a valuable adult experience. While we emphasize “show, don’t tell,” the two actually accentuate one another. Accepted teaching methodology encourages us to describe something and then demonstrate it – in other words, to both tell and show. In our academic writing for other courses, we are asked to assert a claim or position and then support it or prove it. Assertion alone is not enough, and proof without the context of the assertion doesn’t make much sense.

So when your tutor or instructor urges you to “show, don’t tell” what they are really saying is that the current draft has too much telling and not enough showing. A narrative may well rely more on showing rather than telling, but that’s what makes it excellent preparation for other types of academic writing you will be doing. We’ve all got an opinion about things, so it’s easy to “tell” – we get a lot of practice at that. We don’t always have well-thought-out reasons for our opinions, therefore, we sometimes need to be reminded to show as well as tell.

So “show and tell” might seem like a juvenile concept, but ultimately, it is a potent combination for making and proving your point. Maybe Billy’s turtle was helping you to become a better writer all along.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Welcome to writing.bytes.

Welcome to writing.bytes. This is a blog about academic writing. Wait! Don’t run away. I know that sounds pretty boring. Maybe it will be, but we’re going to try hard to make sure it isn’t, so stick around and give us a chance.

Who are we? We’re teachers and students who value the importance of being able to write well. We’ve come together to share our insights to help you become a better writer. We believe that by becoming a better writer, you’ll be more successful in school and in your chosen career. Why do we believe that? Because it’s been true for us.

Each of this blog’s contributors brings his or her own unique perspective on writing, so there should be plenty of interest for everybody. The teachers contributing to writing.bytes. will talk about why they assign the types of writing they do and how you can produce the level of writing they’re looking for. They’ll talk about other things as well – things that will help you gain a valuable perspective about the writing you do in school.

The students who contribute to writing.bytes. will write about how they approach their own assignments. They’ll likely share insights about writing and make connections to things you actually care about.

You’re part of the blog too. You can use the comments link at the bottom of each post to ask questions or leave comments about the post. writing.bytes. isn’t a lecture; it’s a conversation, and we hope that you’ll write to and with us to share your thoughts.

Like any blog, writing.bytes. is a living document. It will grow and transform over time. The great thing about it is that you can be part of that growth and transformation. So, come join the conversation. We look forward to hearing from you.