I can say with absolute confidence that my theory of writing, and my more personal identity as a writer, has undergone a dramatic change this academic quarter. This is due to my intense study of writing in general that stems from this class and from my introduction as a consultant to the writing center, which required me to take a course that focused on how writing is taught in writing centers. This focus on writing has acted as a sort of obsessive frame of mind for me. I have found myself attempting (with varied success) to talk to my friends and peers about writing and often just contemplating it on my own.
Six months ago, I saw writing as a means to an end. I have always had an appreciation for writing, but that appreciation very rarely dipped below the surface. I was able to recognize ‘good[1]’ writing, and I had always excelled in my own academic writing; yet I was coasting. I rarely bothered to think about the writing process other than proofreading and editing, and, I am embarrassed to say, I never truly revised a paper until last month[2]. The intricacies of the writing process and of teaching writing were never of importance to me and I was fine correcting papers for grammatical errors, basic coherence and structure, citations, and formatting. Yet I was missing the whole point of writing.
Perhaps the most complete thought I have deducted is that writing is a conversation and a social act. Writing begins as a thought. Yet to go back, to reflect, let’s look at what a thought is. For us as human beings, a thought takes place in words. So what we are experiencing as reflective thought is a form of internalized conversation. The next step in this conversation is to make it external. To do this is an intense effort, to verbalize to another human being, to converse and discuss and turn this thought into a more cohesive idea that another person can understand. For me, this is the most important part of my writing process. I can think all day long and have short notes on my thoughts and think I am onto something big, but when I try to articulate it can fall apart. This is where writing becomes a social artifact. It is something that is developed within a conversation, though the context of this conversation can be fluid[3]. Though I believe, if you are lucky enough, the best ideas are those developed in a personal conversation[4]. I have gained the most through my conversation with a close friend where we can debate these issues for hours and talk through abstract ideas until they finally become concrete[5].
I now believe that writing is not just words on a page with an intent to communicate. It is a conversation, an act of reflection, and a social artifact and process. David Foster Wallace once said that ‘fiction’s about what it is to be a fucking human being,’ but I would add[6] that writing is what makes us human. It is a constant act of reflection, of going back. It is a primarily recursive process that can define us if we let it. The more I read ‘good’ writing (such as DFW, Joan Didion, Chuck Palahniuk) the more I realize that the ‘good’ writing is about being human. It is articulating the struggles we face on a daily basis and attempting to put that into some sort of context. This can take the form of fiction, of creative fiction, of an essay, of a scientific research paper. These are all attempts to take something from the world and make sense of it. It is reflective. It is looking back. It is about what it is to be a fucking human being in the chaos of today.
[1] Good writing is a term that has always bothered me. To me, good writing is not about grammar or structure or any of the prescribed uses of syntax and diction. Good writing is a good idea. While it can be incredibly pleasant to read pretty sentences and complex sentences and experimental sentences, the ideas are what stays with me.
[2] A part of me still believes I have not fully revised a paper. There is a notion, perhaps that is not fully realized yet, that thinks a revised paper should look very little like the rough draft. There was a reading I did recently for a class and the author described her experience of having a professor go through her Master’s Thesis and completely change it. She simply watched as he took it apart. Yet she wasn’t upset or offended, she was grateful that someone finally showed her how to write and revise. Simply seeing comments and attempting to make acceptable changes and hope that your writing has improved to meet some abstruse standard is incredibly frustrating. I am extremely envious of that experience.
[3] A conversation may not be with another person in the form of speech. It can be through social media, you can post an idea and have anyone or everyone respond. You can email a friend or post on a random or relevant blog or article or picture or Wikipedia. It can also be reading whatever on what you are thinking about to gain perspective and other ideas. Writing is a long history of thought and response and thought and response. Writing simply is conversation.
[4] Yet I have this abstract idea that talking about writing is so wonderfully redundant. So if it is redundant, then is talking about writing the definition of reflection?
[5] Or not, sometimes they become so abstract they just disintegrate, and that’s OK too.
[6] And this is an act of heresy on my part since DFW is my writing hero, I mean check out these footnotes!
No comments:
Post a Comment