writing.bytes.

My Word!: Chapter 3, "Observing the Performance Self"

2010-01-28T14:38:00.003-05:00

Susan Blum begins the third chapter with clear, if limited, definitions of two types of people. Authentic selves “insist that their words are theirs and theirs alone. . . . Nothing could make them pronounce what is not intended as an expression of their own thoughts and feelings. . . . [They] would never plagiarize because they believe to their core that all they say should be theirs and theirs alone” (60-61).

On the contrary, the behavior of “[performance selves] is mutable, depending on circumstances. All that matters is the effect of their actions. . . . They will say what is expected, whatever suits the occasion, whether it is their personal truth or not. . . . They don’t feel a tight connection between their words and their inner being, so they don’t sweat it if others use their words or if they use the words of others” (61).

Blum goes on to associate the authentic self with the ethos of the 1960s while claiming that the more recent emergence of a performance self stems from the 1980s. As broad trends, Blum’s observation may serve as a thumb thrust into the wind to determine its general direction, but as a guide to the behavior of individuals or, as Blum uses it, large groups of individuals, her characterizations are entirely too binary and limited.

The authentic self as she describes it is such a romantic ideal of a type that it would be almost impossible to find a representative example. (Moreover, it sounds like they are so committed to their own ideas, it seems unlikely they would even agree to do research.) Her descriptions of this type seem to derive from the romantic vision of Thoreau or sixties-style communal living. And therein is a flaw.

While she extols the virtues of this singular authentic self, she ignores a very important trait of the human species. Just as statistical trends tend to regress toward the mean, human beings, no matter how authentic, are pulled by the gravity of the group and tend to regress to the norm. In short, human beings tend much more regularly toward the behavior of the performance self that Blum tries to paint as an ethical blight.

Blum derides the performance self for its conformist nature, but she fails to recognize the conformity often found among authentic types as well. The sixties may have had a visible movement toward authenticity, but those very soul-searchers she lauds often pursued the authentic self in groups that formed their own norms of dress, hairstyle, music, drugs, and behavior. I would argue that the authentic self shares more in common with the performance self than Blum wants to admit.

Take Edward, one of the students interviewed as part of Blum’s research and someone offered up as an example of the new performance self. In his interview, Edward says, "personally . . . I would rather care less what people thought of me. . . . I will be my own person, . . . most of the time, . . . unless I'm in . . . a really uncomfortable situation . . ." (73). Edward doesn’t sound like someone unconcerned with authenticity. In fact, he shows a preference for it, but also understands that compromise is a social lubricant. He sounds reasonable enough to me. I’m not sure what cause he gives us to question his ethics.

Blum also misses the mark in suggesting that the performance self is something new. Sure, there have been individuals and cultural movements that stress authenticity, but a performance focus, which Blum seems to equate with a propensity toward duplicity, is historically common, even dominant. Dr. Blum, I’d like to introduce you to Nicolo Machiavelli. I think you two have much to discuss.

Blum has tortured her reasoning to reach the conclusions she's presented. She claims the performance self is obsessed with achievement and concludes, "[t]he performance self is more prone to cheat and plagiarize than the authentic self, given its focus on results rather than on the expression of a singular personal essence. Whose words are spoken is irrelevant; what matters is that the words fit the requirements" (89).

I have my doubts, but let's pretend for a moment that these two "selves" exist and that recognition of them is in fact useful. Her conclusion that the performance self is more likely to cheat because it means meeting the requirements strikes me as poor reasoning. After all, if the requirement is to cite your sources, why wouldn’t the requirement-obsessed performance self not just cite the sources? Come on Performance Self. You don't have to understand it. Just do it. Be like the rest of us. It's easier and we'll like you for it.

Blum demonstrates the danger of spending too much time immersed in research. It seems to me she has created her own echo chamber of ideas that make perfect sense as long as you don’t listen too closely. It's what allows her to make this statement with a straight face:

"The value of citation stems from the authentic self's focus on an individual's singularity: you give credit to the author, the unique person, because the book is 'the imprint of a living human soul.' But how can the performance self see the point of tracing the products of a unique self when it doesn't believe in the unique self?" (79)

As a scholar, I can see where Blum can make such a statement. It lines up with her research and deeper analysis about the roots of the concept of intellectual property. But my student self -- one that grappled with the issue of how to understand the need to document my sources for many years of undergraduate and graduate work (not to mention high school) -- never thought like this. I would bet good money today's students don't think like this either.

Moreover, I think it’s irrelevant whether they do or don’t. The authentic self, if it exists, is a type so pristine as to be virtually unattainable. It certainly does not now, nor has it ever described the mainstream of students, faculty, or humanity of any kind. We’re all more or less some version of the performance self in practice, and nothing about that characterization necessarily leads to unethical behavior. We’re still left with the difference between unintentional plagiarism (for whatever reason) and cheating.

The answer, then, to Blum’s last question about getting today's students to understand the point of tracing information to its source is "teach them." Understanding the need to cite your sources is no more difficult than understanding that your reader may want to look at those same sources. Or, if you prefer, that faculty need to be able to confirm your research. Either way, the performance self should be able to understand that, in order to succeed in their papers, they'll need to do this. Blum’s own argument suggests that students will want to conform to this expectation. It does not require any deeper navel gazing.

As for the cheaters among the plagiarists, Blum has already cited evidence that cheating on written work hasn't shown signs of increasing (2). Perhaps students have more options for cheating, but then again, there are more options for catching them. Certainly, today's cheaters are no more immune to the threat of being caught than a cheater of any generation. Any self should be able to understand that.

Quick aside: I'm sure you've done the math by now, as I have, and realize that there is no realistic way that I'm going to finish this book, let alone blog on the rest of it before the book group meeting on February 3 (which is next Wednesday). While this whole thread of posts is somewhat off topic for the blog, I might consider extending the conversation after the meeting as well. I'll leave that decision up to you. If you want me to continue, please leave a comment letting me know.

My Word!: Chapter 2

2010-01-19T15:49:00.003-05:00

So I'm on to Susan Blum's second chapter entitled, "Intertextuality, Authorship, and Plagiarism." As the title suggests, there are a number of ideas in this chapter, but the one that I find most interesting relates to how students value and use quotes or citation in their social communication and their differing view of academic citation.

Blum posits, "that rather than being entirely ignorant of the principles of citation, students are often aware of them but do not entirely accept them" (29). It would seem that students intuitively know that, as Blum quotes Mark Rose (one of her primary sources on the history of the legal framework of authorship), "Copyright is not a transcendent moral idea, but a specifically modern formation produced by printing technology, marketplace economics, and the classical liberal culture of possessive individualism" (35).

This framework is being transformed by digital technology in much the same way as print technology helped to form it in the first place. This transformation is revealed in the ways that students use quotations in their social circles. The sources for their quotations are not books, but rather television shows, movies, and music. These sources are not, however, often attributed.

The source of the difference is that knowledge of the references is assumed. In fact, it is what marks you as part of the "in group." Quotations become a shorthand for a shared experience. More academically, they are metaphors, in some cases, for entire situations or conversations. And often, as the students in Blum's book point out, it's fun and humorous.

What Blum calls "[s]hared unspoken recognition of the source" is a very similar phenomenon to what students from countries like China bring with them. Students from similar academic cultures often struggle with our citation expectations because attribution is seen as unneccessary and even insulting to your readers and the source. The words of the masters are used precisely because they come from the masters and it is assumed all informed readers know their source. To document those sources would be like me saying to you, "Hey the sun is out. You know about the sun, right? That big orange disk in the sky that sheds light and heat?" You'd think I was joking or making fun of you.

Blum ends the chapter by reiterating how students' social use of quotes differs from their attitudes about and the requirements of academic quoting. She talks about how the joy of social quoting comes from the shared influence of the source. "And when it is shared," she concludes, "there is no need to cite explicitly" (58).

I find it interesting that use of quotations in these social contexts is a form of inclusion. This actually mirrors much of the point of academic citation. The difference is that there is an opposite value assigned. In the social situation, not quoting invests value because it's a nod to the shared experience while in the academic sense citation adds the value, ironically, for the same reason. This suggests that the value of academic citation can be communicated.

I think this is a great opportunity to talk to students about the rhetorical context of academic writing. There is a kind of academic joy in sharing sources, but because we can't be certain who will read our work once it is published, even in the classroom, we must account in our writing for those readers who might not share the context or experience. This is why when we quote in writing, the reader who is familiar with our source has one experience of our work (a feeling of inclusion and being "in the know") and the reader who does not share the experience of the source has another (the feeling of exclusion and perhaps a sense that the writer is "putting on airs").

According to Blum, students already have an intuitive sense of the limitations of text. It's one of the reasons they don't quote from texts as much as other media -- because they can't be sure it's a shared experience. Our job, then, becomes to show them how to share the experience. This shared desire to share experience is at the heart of quotation in both social and academic contexts. Motivating students to cite properly should be relatively easy once we can show them this similarity. Then, of course, we need to show them how. That seems an easier step if they understand the why.

"My Word!": Intro and Chapter 1

2010-01-06T15:43:00.002-05:00

So I've made my way through the Introduction and the first chapter of Susan Blum's My Word!: Plagiarism and College Culture. It's difficult to organize my response to what I have read so far.

On the one hand, Blum raises interesting and important questions and ideas about plagiarism and how we treat it in the academic and professional worlds. On the other hand, all she's really accomplished to this point is to note that there is a difference between cheating and improper documentation and to assert that we need to understand plagiarism better.

That's a good start, I suppose. After all, I'm only 28 pages into a book that tackles a very difficult issue. I am moved to comment about two specific bits here in the early going -- one each about cheating and poor citation.

Blum points out the growth in articles about plagiarism in the past ten years or so and says, "Many see this increase as evidence of a crisis; others see it as evidence of moral panic" (21). She soon makes it pretty clear that she is one of the latter by giving an interesting history of pervasive cheating for more than a millenium in imperial China.

Her point is not, of course, to pick on the Chinese or to justify cheating by American students. Rather, her story illustrates that given sufficiently high stakes, just about anyone is prone to stacking the odds in their favor, especially if the odds seem slim to begin with. While I'm not sure where she is going to take this idea, I'm intrigued by the implications it has on academia given our culture's growing awareness of the value of education (especially the economic value of it) and our insistence on providing "access" at almost any cost.

Her story also points out the futility of trying to stop such cheating, so clearly this is an issue that we'll need to apply some ingenuity to. (On a side note, her story also has interesting analogs to attempts by our growing security state to make us all "safe." I'll leave you to read her story and make of it what you will.)

Blum also shares some insights from Rebecca Moore Howard on what Howard calls "patchworking" (26-27). Patchworking, according to Howard, is the process by which novice academic writers re-work material from a source by changing its grammatical structure, word order, and word choice and then present the newly composed text as if their own.

Most academic faculty would view this as a form of plagiarism, but Howard sees it as an important step in a student's learning process. I agree.

The further we are from understanding, the more we have to rely on what some people call our "monkey brain." That is, in order to learn, we must first immitate. I have the great joy of watching my not-quite-two-year-old niece going through this process now.

My niece, you see, has a cat which she has learned, through imitation, to call "kitty." Of course, she isn't very sophisticated about language or animals yet so while she can correctly identify a kitty at 100 paces, she also identifies any four-legged and furry creature as a kitty. Luckily for her, she's very young and very cute so no one really cares that she doesn't know what she's talking about most of the time because, well, we expect it. We know it will be some time before she has catalogued enough furry, four-legged creatures to begin asking, "What's that?" when she encounters, say, a horse.

College students don't get the same pass as my niece. (Quick aside: In retrospect, isn't one of the most depressing moments in our lives the day people stop cheering because we can tie our shoes? Expectations go up so fast, don't they?)

We're often quite harsh about students who should have been taught something -- or so we still suppose -- but who either haven't been taught it or haven't learned it. We complain that our students don't intuitively understand our arcane documentation "standards" -- as Blum points out, standards that are anything but consistent or, in fact, actually standardized -- and then hold them accountable for knowing a whole host of assumed arcana that is never actually documented by the standardizing bodies (or, all too often, the faculty holding them accountable for it).

This is misplaced anger if ever there was such a thing. Shouldn't we be holding their previous teachers accountable? Or perhaps teaching them what we want them to do? Many of us do just that, but as Blum reveals, the standards applied to students are often not so uniformly applied to people at our own level of academic accomplishment.

In any case, Howard's point is that students need to pass through this imitative stage on their way to deeper understanding. This seems manifestly true. As we accrue knowledge about a subject, we are better able to make connections between and among various facts and even make intuitive leaps in our understanding of the subject. Our ability to navigate the subtler regions of a subject increases as we learn more. Once enough pieces are fit together, we can proceed without imitation and begin to create on our own.

There is much left to read, but it already seems clear that part of our challenge is going be meeting (with limited time) students where they are and guiding them to the place of academic understanding we'd like them to occupy with regard to source use. Perhaps we need to jetison some of our old assumptions in the process and learn a new process even as we seek to introduce our students to new territory.

The “P” Word

2009-11-02T13:41:00.004-05:00

I hate plagiarism. Hate it. Don’t like the word. Don’t like how it sounds. Don’t like spelling it. Hate it. And I particularly hate when people ask me to come and talk to their students about plagiarism or how to avoid plagiarism. I don’t like having that word associated with our writing center. Why this visceral reaction?

First, the concept of plagiarism is messy. It is a word used imprecisely. It means the act of cheating or stealing (and those are perfectly accurate and usable words, so let’s call those forms of plagiarism what they are). It also means not documenting your sources correctly which covers a range of “sins” from not documenting your sources at all to forgetting to include the publisher in your reference list. It seems nonsensical to me that we have a word that means both an active deception and a lack of training.

I’m also irritated by the approach many people take to plagiarism. I’m often asked to present to students on how to avoid plagiarism. This seems counter-intuitive to me. It’s like asking someone not to think about purple frogs. As soon as you say it, all anyone can think about is purple frogs. How absurd! Let’s focus on discussing proper documentation procedures and advocating academic integrity (which, I should point out, many individuals and groups on campus do).

Another reason for my visceral reaction has to do with the writing center. Our center is a place where students need to feel safe. They need to trust that they can come to our center and make mistakes and not have to pay an academic price for those mistakes. My stance is that the cheating form of plagiarism hasn’t occurred until a paper is turned in for credit. Up until then, students can turn back. At our writing center, we’re very careful how to approach these situations. When our consultants see text that looks like it comes from a source other than the writer and that text isn’t documented, they begin to discuss proper documentation procedures. (By the way, for those students reading this: it’s a lot easier to pick out plagiarized material than you might think.)

Finally, it really irritates me how pedantic some people are about documentation. They seem to want to claim plagiarism or at the very least drop the grading hammer any time a comma is out of place in the reference list or a date is missing from an APA in-text citation. Most of the worst sticklers are people who aren’t even that knowledgeable about the style they’ve required.

So imagine my reaction when the American Psychological Association (APA) released its 6th edition of their Publication Manual complete with numerous errors of just the type likely to set off pedantic professors. Most of the errors were cosmetic, but several were substantive and have caused genuine confusion and concern for students. The APA’s subsequent refusal to issue more than web updates seemed to fly in the face of the rigor they try to impose with their standards. After all, if errors don’t really matter to the APA, why should we care? Finally, however, the APA has relented and agreed to reprint the edition with corrections.

In an article discussing this fiasco in The Chronicle of Higher Education, I found a sister from another mother in the person of Barbara Fister, academic librarian at Gustavus Adolphus College. As quoted in the article, Fister asserts that plagiarism pedants should “stop spending hours trying to correct student work using new style manuals as unfamiliar to them as to their students and go play with the baby or take a walk instead." Hooray! According to the article, Fister believes “being correct [in the minutiae of style] is not that important, but that understanding the rhetorical reasons for bringing good sources into your argument is.” I couldn’t have said it better myself.

All of this coincides with the recent announcement of a Writing Across the Curriculum (WAC) book discussion group set to meet on February 3 to discuss Susan Blum’s latest book, My Word! Plagiarism and College Culture. I’ve signed up for the group and received my complimentary copy of the book. If you’re a member of the Wright State University community, you can too. Contact the Center for Teaching and Learning (CTL) at 775-4522 to reserve a spot at the discussion and to arrange for your free copy of the book. I’ll be blogging my reactions to the book in this space as I read it. Please read along with me and share your comments here.

Dismissed

2009-10-20T09:21:00.005-04:00

One of the most annoying traits of public debate in recent years is how often people dismiss one another’s views out of hand. Too often I hear people proclaim, “Well, that’s just your opinion” or “Well, you’re biased.” These dismissals ignore the possibility that an opinion has been arrived at through deep reflection and are a way of not having to engage in any real thought about a subject.

The inaccurate charge of bias is one that particularly annoys me. Bias is a real issue in academic debate. It is something that scholars and students are urged to avoid. We’re also taught to look for it in the sources we use for our research. It really does exist, but too often in public debate it is assumed from someone’s viewpoint. Ironically, though not surprisingly, it is often present in the very people who charge others with this argumentative fault. People's own biases can so blind them to the facts that the only reason they can see for someone else to draw different conclusions must be bias.

The academic definition of bias is “A preference or an inclination, esp[ecially] one that inhibits impartial judgment” (American Heritage College Dictionary). So, for example, a Democrat might be prone to support President Obama’s policies since he, too, is a Democrat. Similarly, a Democrat may have been more critical of a Republican President such as George W. Bush. That kind of partisan bias occurs all the time, and it is wise to be on the lookout for it. However, it is possible for someone to support a member of their own party, to stay with the political example, without exhibiting bias.

So, how do we tell the difference between an opinion that is overly influenced by bias and one that is not?

The real answer to this question is that we can’t always tell; however, we can take steps to help us find out. Research is a key tool in helping to determine a person’s bias.

For example, let’s say you read an article by a particular political pundit. By reading this article you find out that when the Republicans were in charge, the pundit supported certain key policies. If you only read this one article, you might assume that he has a Republican bias. But if you read another article by the pundit -- one written as a new Democratic administration announces that it will continue those same policies -- and the pundit continues to support them, then we can be pretty sure that he wasn’t supporting those policies just because they were proposed by Republicans. Of course, the pundit might have other biases that contribute to his support of those policies, but through our research we’ve eliminated one of them.

Detecting true bias is very difficult. We all have biases that influence how we develop opinions. The key to honest debate is to try to recognize bias (our own and that of others) and mitigate it by keeping an open mind. We must remain open to new information that might change our opinion of a subject. This is very difficult to do even when we are aware.

What we can do rather easily is stop using the charge of bias as a cheap way of dismissing what others think. If your opinions are so fragile that you can’t bear to hear what someone else has to say, perhaps they aren’t worth keeping.

Seriously?

2009-10-07T14:34:00.007-04:00

Last week we talked about how argumentation is at the core of academic writing. I was going to attempt to spell out how to make an argument, but that is too complex a subject for a mere blog post. There are a number of good sources to help you learn how to create a good argumentative paper. Dartmouth’s Writing Program has created this very worthwhile source for making the transition from high school writing to college writing. More specifically, Wright State’s Writing Center has this guide to creating thesis statements. In fact, our wiki has a number of useful links to help you with making the transition to academic writing.

We talked last week about how the process of argumentation is geared toward building an understanding of a subject. Still, it’s difficult to get past the connotation that the goal of an argument is to win. So what is a “win” in an academic argument?

There are a number of definitions I can think of, including the obvious one: winning an argument means making readers change their minds about the subject. I think this is a valid definition, but it can be difficult to achieve. It also can lead to bad scholarly habits. If our goal in an argument is always to convince someone that we are right, we create the temptation to cheat toward that goal. We might hide relevant information that might not support our conclusion. We might misrepresent the viewpoints of certain experts. In short, we might not be honest with our readers. That’s bad.

I think a better goal in an academic paper is to get your audience to take you seriously. This goal is well-aligned with other goals you might have. In a very personal way, much of your life to this point may have been devoted to getting people to take you seriously. After all, you’re not a kid anymore.

The key to being taken seriously in an academic environment is to demonstrate reason and objectivity. Biases born of prejudice or emotional reactions are not well thought of in college. Your readers (e.g., mostly your professors) are going to be far more impressed and persuaded by your dispassionate discussion of a subject.

So how do you achieve this tone of objectivity?

First, find out as much as you can about the subject. This is the reason professors assign research. Their requirements for the number of sources you should look at are the minimum they think you will need to review to begin to understand the subject well enough to discuss it intelligently. Don’t limit yourself to the minimum; read everything you have the time for. Remember, though, not all sources are of equal value.

In your reading, you are looking for factual data about the subject and informed opinion from other scholars and experts on the subject. Sources that deal honestly with counterarguments and differences of opinion will generally be of value. The side benefit to your research is that as you discover valid sources of information on a subject, you will also be exposing yourself to the types of writing and the tone that you will be trying to achieve for your readers.

Most importantly, be open to learning something. Try not to cling too tightly to your preconceived notions about the subject. By being open minded about the subject, you will more naturally seek out opinions on both sides of the argument. Being one sided is the perfect way to convince people that you are NOT serious.

By avoiding bias, addressing potential counterarguments, and generally trying to create an aura of competence, you will appear reasonable, and get your readers to take you seriously. It isn’t always important to win the debate – you will not always convince your reader that you are right. But if you can get your reader to take you seriously, to consider what you have said and think about it seriously, then you will have gone a long way toward being successful in your academic writing.

Why Is Everything An Argument With You?

2009-09-28T10:45:00.001-04:00

When most students hear the word “argument,” they think of angry people yelling at one another. When you tell them that academic writing is about making an argument, they picture those uncomfortable moments with family and friends where they fought with one another. No wonder students have so little enthusiasm for “making an argument” in their classes.

An academic argument isn’t an angry fight, though. When you hear the term “argument” in an academic context think about two people having a reasonable conversation. Envision two people who aren’t emotionally attached to the subject. Instead, these two people are actually curious about what the answers to a question might be. As each proposes a possible answer, the other gently tests the proposition with questions and offers new facts to be discussed.

Even given this slightly less combative vision of arguing, students are bound to ask, “Why do I have to argue at all? What’s the point?” It’s a good question.

The point of arguing is to help us better understand something. Anyone can have an opinion. In fact, opinions are among the most common things around. But what is the value of those opinions? Many opinions only have real value to the person who holds them. Typically, these are opinions based on an emotional response to something. For example, I can say, “The Oakland Raiders are my favorite team.” That statement reflects my opinion, and it is factual. But so what? It isn’t really an arguable statement, in part because it has no real value outside of my own personal preference. It doesn’t matter to anyone but me. The fact that I like the Raiders doesn’t preclude you from liking another team.

But what if I claim, “The Oakland Raiders are the best team in the NFL.” That statement is also an opinion. Furthermore, it might matter to you (if you care about football) because if I am right, then your favorite team isn’t the best team in football and maybe you think they are. We don’t have to fight about it, though, because my opinion is arguable and, therefore, potentially provable in a meaningful way. We can actually establish criteria for evaluation, look at data, gather the informed opinions of experts, and evaluate the facts to make a reasonable assessment about which team actually is the best team in football.

We can have a heated argument – the personal kind – about whether the Raiders are my favorite team, but why would we? It doesn’t matter. We can also have an academic argument – though it need not be heated – about whether the Raiders are the best team in football. That argument, though, actually has a good possibility of yielding a factual conclusion. We might not discover who the best team really is, but we are sure to discover that, in fact, the Raiders are not the best team in football (actually, over the past several years, they are one of the worst teams – if not the worst team – in football).

For an opinion to have broader value, for us to have a chance to establish it as fact or truth, we have to take a more intellectual, critical approach. The process of challenging assumptions or opinions; of asking critical questions; of looking for data, facts, expert opinion; and analyzing a subject is a process that can lead us to the truth or at least a better understanding of the subject. It can lead us to better answers about all sorts of things like what you can do about global warming, who you should vote for to be President, even what kind of car you should buy.

Argument – even internal argument – is how we come to understand the world around us. It is a form of critical thinking, one of the most valuable skills you can possess. And academic writing is one of the surest ways to learn that skill.

Start Me Up

2009-09-21T10:40:00.002-04:00

I had the pleasure of talking to some freshmen in their UVC classes last week. I asked them what they wanted to know about college writing. During our conversation, a theme emerged. Most of the students I spoke with told me that the hardest part about writing was getting started.

There are a number of techniques for getting started. Experts recommend doing some brainstorming, free-writing, creating a web, or making an outline. All of these techniques have value, and I concur with the experts: try one or more of these techniques and see what works best for you. But as the conversation with these students unfolded, I was struck by a thought that I’d like to explore.

Almost every creation story I’ve ever seen emphasizes that creation came from the organization of chaos. The Creator in these stories always brings order to the chaos. This same story is fundamentally true of “small c” creators as well and, thus, it is true for writers (and Writers).

When we write, we rarely know exactly what we want to write until we write it. We must work hard to shape our formless thoughts into a point, something sharp and focused. This shaping often takes place on the page itself, but it just as often takes place in our heads. In fact, there is a definite back and forth relationship between what appears in our head (the image of our creation) and what ends up on the paper (the final form of the creation). In short, writers make order out of the chaos of their thoughts.

My point is that the very act of thinking “Where do I start?” is, in fact, a start. We have begun the process of creating order out of the chaos of our thoughts. Is it difficult? Yes, often times. But it is also clearly the beginning of writing.

This is the point I’d like for those students among you to take: don’t confine your definition of writing to the act of putting pen to paper or fingertips to keyboard. The page is merely a container for your thoughts. Typing merely propels your words to the page. Thinking is part of the writing process. In fact, it is the real essence of writing. To continue the creation analogy, it is the spirit that inhabits and energizes the flesh.

Thinking is the work of writing. The rest is just packaging. This fact is why writing has such a critical role in education. It is the primary reason (of two reasons) why writing is so important: college is about learning how to think. Not what to think, but how to think, the process of thinking. (The second reason that writing is important is that it is still the best way to communicate complex ideas to a large number of people over an extended period of time so, it is critical that you learn how to communicate clearly in writing.)

The kind of deep thinking you are learning to do in college can’t be rushed. It takes patience. Because writing is thinking, the same is true of writing: it can’t be rushed, and it takes patience. If you’ve started grappling with the chaos of your thoughts, you’ve started to write. Does that make it any easier or more fun? Probably not, but at least we’ve now accurately located the real problem, and that’s the first step toward solving it.

There is a reason (learn, learn, learn)

2009-09-14T09:22:00.002-04:00

Starting college is a heady feeling. New school, new people, newfound freedoms, all of these things make starting college an exciting time. One of the first shocks most students receive is how much writing is required in college. If you haven’t seen this reflected on your course syllabuses or heard it from your instructors yet, you will before the first year is over.

The nature of college writing is vastly different than you may have experienced in high school. It is certainly different from the types of communication you see on a daily basis. In college, you will be required to make a claim or statement (called a thesis statement) and defend it with logic, facts, and expert opinion. It is unlikely that you had to do this, or do it as thoroughly, in your high school English classes.

Much writing in high school involves your personal response to other people’s writing and opinions. Similarly, most public communication strives to appear reasonable and well-supported, but it often falls short. We’re bombarded by advertising claims that seem to offer a supported argument (“Is gas mileage important to you? Our car gets 24 miles per gallon on the highway. You should buy our car.”), but those appeals to our pocketbooks are far more shallow and narrow than the types of writing and issues you will be asked to consider throughout your college career.

Why is there so much emphasis on writing in college? There are two primary reasons. The first is that writing is a great way to demonstrate your understanding of a topic. The slow, in-depth nature of the process gives you time to develop a clear, coherent response to an issue or topic. The second reason is that writing is a way of learning. Writing is far more than just putting words on paper. In college, when we speak of writing, we’re talking about the entire process from researching a topic and working to understand it to developing a clear, well-supported response to the issues involved in that topic.

Helping you navigate the requirements of writing in college and understand the value of writing beyond school is one of the main purposes of this blog. In the coming weeks, we’ll address some of the issues that make college writing such a challenge and such a rewarding experience. We’ll investigate what academic writing is, why everything seems to be an argument, and why this isn’t such a bad thing after all. We’ll look at how to evaluate sources and discuss some of the differences between what you are being taught about writing and arguing in college and how things happen in “the real world.”

Future posts aren’t written yet, so feel free to use the comments section of this blog to ask questions and propose ideas for discussion. Being engaged in the conversation is another exciting and important aspect of being in college.

Evaluate Your Sources with CRAAP!

2009-03-02T12:20:00.003-05:00

Hi, I'm Piper, the resident librarian at the Writing Center. I'll be posting here from time to time, and while my posts might not be directly about writing per se, they will be about library-related aspects of the writing process. Most of my time is spent upstairs in the Dunbar Library, where--among other things--I and my fellow librarians help students find books, articles, and other materials for their research papers. Although we spend a lot of time searching with students in our catalog and in article databases (and if you don't know what those are, get yourself upstairs and ask! we're cheerful and helpful and we love questions!), another big part of what we do is help teach students to evaluate all the information that they find.

“Well,” you might think, “I already know how to do that.” I'm sure that you do, to some degree, but just think of the vast amount of information out there. For example, when you do a Google search, how do you know which sites will have reliable information? What are the kinds of things you look for in a good, authoritative site? These are not just questions that you should ask yourself when you're doing research for a class assignment (and if you are working on an assignment, you should probably be using the library's catalog and article databases ;)), they are questions that you should ask when you are looking up health information, or buying something, or just looking up a fact on which you made a bet with someone.

Some of the librarians here use a handy checklist developed by librarians at Cal State Chico called the CRAAP test for evaluating websites and other information. CRAAP is an acronym for Currency, Relevance, Authority, Accuracy, Purpose. These are all things that you should look for, whether on the TV news, in a book, or on a website that pops to the top of your search results. Take a look and use the CRAAP test: it’s brief, it’s useful, and it could save you from making a big mistake in either school—“Whoops, that web page I cited on Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was produced by white supremacists”— or the rest of your busy life—“Oh no, that shopping site put a virus in my computer! “

Analyzing Analysis

2009-02-21T17:20:00.002-05:00

As a tutor and as a student, I think it is safe to say that text analysis is my least favorite English 101 assignment. However, it is also more useful than it appears at first glance. Speaking as someone who spent many years in the workforce prior to returning to college, I can say that if I had possessed the skills achieved by formulating a successful text analysis back then, it would have served me well.

Instructors assign text analysis for a variety of reasons. However, one of the most important is to assess students’ ability to truly comprehend the message that is being delivered. This goes beyond the ability to look at an advertisement and know what the company is trying to sell, or the ability look an article and accurately summarizing its contents. It is a dissection of language and images that inevitably tells us more than we could possibly glean from a simple summary.

Generally, I suggest that my clients approach analysis as a mechanic might. I recommend that they examine the text as though it is a motor that can be taken apart and examined piece by piece, then put back together to comprise a whole, working machine. Examining each portion of the text gives the student an in depth understanding of why the author used certain words or images, and how those individual components contribute to the success or failure of the piece as a whole.

Not only does this approach serve as method of creating a successful text analysis for an instructor, it provides the student with tools that will serve him or her in a business setting. An understanding of text analysis can lay the groundwork for better communication in the workplace.

Though it will rarely be a favorite assignment, text analysis will inevitably strengthen a student's skill as a writer. Successful completion of this assignment can strengthen a writer’s confidence and improve his or her reading comprehension in preparation for further collegiate endeavors, as well as undertakings beyond the world of academia.

Six Degrees of Greatness

2008-12-09T08:38:00.003-05:00

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.

Have you WAC-ed your WID today?

2008-06-05T11:52:00.002-04:00

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?

What is revision?

2008-05-27T17:00:00.002-04:00

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)

Pet Peeve with Writing Assignments #1

2008-05-20T08:54:00.003-04:00

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?

Now What?

2008-05-14T17:27:00.002-04:00

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.

Toe tapping or busting a move… SOC200 2nd Paper

2008-05-07T03:10:00.005-04:00

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.

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

2008-05-02T17:51:00.003-04:00

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.

When time doesn’t fly

2008-04-27T17:13:00.006-04:00

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.

I Am Doing This Instead Of Things I Should Be Doing

2008-04-22T01:43:00.002-04:00

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.

Imagination or Reality? The First Paper

2008-04-17T23:04:00.004-04:00

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.

Flow When You Show

2008-03-05T09:27:00.003-05:00

“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

2008-03-05T03:01:00.006-05:00

“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?

Be certain you got it right. Often, assignments are based on readings, lecture notes, class discussions, or outside materials.
Ask for clarification from the prof. They are getting paid to impart knowledge, not befuddle. Make them earn their money!
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.

Give Yourself a Little Credit

2008-02-19T17:06:00.012-05:00

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

2008-02-19T11:57:00.005-05:00

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.

Random Blurts

2008-02-18T10:29:00.002-05:00

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.

Who Cares About Writing Anway?

2008-02-07T09:59:00.001-05:00

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.)

Don't Expect a Creative Title

2008-02-05T09:44:00.000-05:00

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

Developing a Writing Process

2008-02-04T16:21:00.000-05:00

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.

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

2008-02-01T23:08:00.000-05:00

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).

Jet Boy: An Autobiography

2008-01-29T00:49:00.000-05:00

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.

allow me to introduce myself

2008-01-28T16:29:00.000-05:00

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.

Lost in the Blogosphere...,

2008-01-27T19:05:00.000-05:00

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.

Outlines: Keeping students coloring inside the lines since forever.

2008-01-26T21:27:00.000-05:00

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.

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

2008-01-24T10:29:00.000-05:00

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.

Welcome to writing.bytes.

2008-01-16T10:14:00.000-05:00

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.