Friday, February 25, 2011

"'To create' is not beyond the capacity of any normal human being. If creativity is somehow a special ability, it is special for us all" (Lindemann 87).

When I was a teenager I overheard my family's realtor, who played the electric piano at our church, tell our former pastor that everyone should complete one creative task each year, even if that task is remodeling a bathroom.

And his point, I think, was that people should spend time creating and being creative.

Yes, he did say that people should complete their creative tasks, but what is created was less important than the creator and the talent of the creator was less important than the act of creating.

Not everyone is a master. There is only one Mark Twain, one Frank Lloyd Wright, and one Alfred Hitchcock. Not every creation is a masterpiece. There is only one Moby Dick, one Pantheon, and one Citizen Kane.

But, going by Lindemann's quote, there are millions, no billions of creative people walking around, afraid to express themselves creatively because they think that's not who they are.

Many English majors love to brag about their limited math skills. Go to dinner with a group of English majors and watch them try to split the check or figure out the tip. It's quite fun. A friend of mine here at DH wears a T-shirt that reads: "I'm an English major; you do the math."

But we know there are some things that a responsible adult just needs to know. Not everyone needs to master (or even faintly grasp) calculus, but it would behoove most people to know just enough arithmetic and quantatative reasoning to maintain a positive checking account balance.

And so, not everyone needs to be a great artist or create great art. But understanding the arts and getting a glimpse into how artistic work is created can lead to a more rewarding college experience and a richer life.

What's the moral of this story? If you have a talent, use it. Do something with it. If you're not sure about what you can do, try something you've always wanted to do.

Remember writing and drawing? People still do those. Want to make a short film? You could probably use your phone. Make a meal from scratch.

You're creative, so be creative.

Monday, February 21, 2011

The Inescapable Writing Process or Preaching (Teaching) What I Don't Practice

I am a terrible writer. More precisely, I am a terrible composer of essays. When I begin, I barely have a plan and I rarely have a clear goal. At best I’ll have instructions and a primary text that I want (or have) to say something about.

My “prewriting” consists of staring at the prompt. I can’t do a working thesis because I don’t know what I want to say. I can’t do an outline because I don’t know what I’m going to say, let alone how I want to say it. I can’t even do a word map or a cluster or bubbles or whatever those things are because I don’t have a topic.

All I can do is write. So I write. And write. Eventually a topic emerges, I mold it into an argument, and several cuts and pastes later I end up with a decent paper. Sometimes I’m even on time.

Do I have a strategy? It would seem not. Do I follow a process? It doesn’t appear so. But as a student of reading and writing, I know and recognize that writing is a process that can and, for teaching’s sake, should be broken down into three main components: Prewriting, writing (or drafting), and rewriting (or revision).

Just because I, as writer, don’t have a developed prewriting strategy or consciously work through a writing process, it doesn’t mean that a writing process doesn’t exist. Looking at my writing habits, it is clear that I practice all three components of the writing process, even if I don’t mean to, am not aware of it, and am not very good at it.

I mostly write by hand to begin a project. Writing by hand is a form of prewriting because I know I will have to go over those words again when I type them on the computer. This allows me to write a little more freely because I know I can always fix a badly-worded phrase at a later time. I can also make marks on the page to indicate where I might need a quote or if I need to research a point.

At the same time, typing handwritten drafts is a kind of rewriting, as one “corrects” or formalizes one’s words as they go from page to screen. One can also double check facts or rearrange the structure. Many times a passage that I thought was going to be my introduction, ends up being my conclusion

So when I am writing by hand, I am prewriting and writing. When I am typing, I am writing and rewriting. If I were a better student, or at least a little smarter, I would prewrite first, then write, then rewrite.

As graduate students we assume, and it is assumed, that we have our writing strategy well in hand. What we do is what works best for us. For most of us that is probably true. We’ve honed our skills, we’ve practiced our techniques, and we’ve conquered our fears and bad habits.

But for some, myself included, we still really don’t know what we’re doing or how we’re doing it. We get by on a combination of ability, desperation, and caffeine.

Being aware that writing is a process will first make us better students of writing, even if it doesn’t make us better or more disciplined writers. Second, that awareness will make us better teachers of writing.

We do not have to tell students, “you should develop a process of writing.” Rather, we can tell students, “there is a writing process, and within that process there are techniques and strategies that you can follow to not only improve your writing, but to also decrease your stress.”