Writer’s Digest contest directions:
Your Story #26--Bloody Knife in Your Hand
You wake up to find a dead body on the floor—and a bloody knife in your hands.
You can't remember exactly what happened, so you piece together the clues.
MY ENTRY:
"Wait, what?" I mumbled, struggling to sit up and open my eyes. Through the strobe-light created by my flickering eyelids and a hot, bright light, I thought I saw a bloody body. Yes, a body. A man. Slashed by... "Oh my God!" I unclenched my hand and a blood-smeared knife clattered against the floor. The back of my head throbbed, and I couldn't figure out how I'd fallen or why I'd been fighting with a knife or who the dead guy was or WHAT THE #@%% I WAS GOING TO DO NOW.
I scrambled to my feet, suddenly drenched in sweat, and gasped as I heard a voice snap at me.
"What are you doing?!"
I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing to be killed by the angry man. "Please don't--"
"CUT! That's not in the script! Geez, did you actually knock yourself out when you did that fall?"
I opened my eyes, suddenly remembering that voice. The voice that had asked me just moments ago--at least it seemed like moments--whether I wanted to do my own stunt or let a stunt man fall for me.
I rubbed my aching head, forgetting about the sticky, fake blood, and then grimacing as I felt the goo in my hair. The dead guy sat up and sighed. The director groaned. And I asked timidly, "Take two?"
Then everyone on the set burst out laughing.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Thursday, April 15, 2010
The 5 R's of Workshop Writing
An effective writing workshop, I have found, must stress what I call the "5 R's":
1) Record (thoughts and ideas)
2) Read rough drafts (aloud, for feedback)
3) Respond (to feedback, and to works read by other writers)
4) Revise (based on feedback)
5) Reflect (upon your progress, in writing, from rough to final draft)
All 5 steps are essential to progress and to giving meaning to the writing process. And the beauty of #5, Reflect, is that students practice the Response-to-Literature essay style on their own work, analyzing their word choices from first to final draft, and drawing conclusions about their stylistic improvement; plus, students create their own progress records via their reflective paragraphs--progress based on qualitative standards they set for themselves.
1) Record (thoughts and ideas)
2) Read rough drafts (aloud, for feedback)
3) Respond (to feedback, and to works read by other writers)
4) Revise (based on feedback)
5) Reflect (upon your progress, in writing, from rough to final draft)
All 5 steps are essential to progress and to giving meaning to the writing process. And the beauty of #5, Reflect, is that students practice the Response-to-Literature essay style on their own work, analyzing their word choices from first to final draft, and drawing conclusions about their stylistic improvement; plus, students create their own progress records via their reflective paragraphs--progress based on qualitative standards they set for themselves.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Why I Use the Workshop Format To Teach Writing
My wish for all of my students is that they establish their own Best standard in writing--and then strive to surpass it with each new project. When a student asks me, "Is this good?," I often ask, "What do YOU think?" The student either shrugs and says, "I don't know," or nods proudly and awaits my critique. To those who shrug, I usually say, "Can you add more details? More D.A.D. elements? Can you find repetitive words or off-topic ideas to cut out?" Those questions make most uncertain writers say something like, "Oh yeah, okay...," and return to their seats to revise.
These two kinds of responses to "What do YOU think?" indicate to me that what students need most in establishing their strongest writing skills is to first establish themselves as credible critics of writing. The writing workshop format allows students to learn self-editing skills by starting with editing the work of their classmates and published authors. Public critique sessions following the sharing of writing pieces thus lay the foundation for writers to learn evaluation techniques that will eventually transfer to their self-evaluation skills. Now, no one can be completely objective about his/her own writing (I have a critique partner to keep me "objective"), but learning to critique certainly enables us to accept and integrate suggested revisions without destructive defensive posturing. In short, the workshop format of writing instruction stresses writing as a communication process, not the fulfillment of a teacher's assignment.
If writers create works based only on what others expect or demand from them, they are not truly communicating, only fashioning words to serve others; not creating, but merely reiterating; not sighing with pride upon completion of a written work, but rather, with relief to be finished. If I, as a teacher of writing,javascript:void(0) do not lead my students into careful examination of the words they choose and the reasons they choose them, I fail to assist the communication process.
So when students don't participate in the discussions of their fellow students' work, they overlook the application of the discussion to their own work. I have had parents say to me, "My child is bored having to listen to the other kids' pieces and comment on them. Can't we have a private lesson instead?" Sometimes I do make time to give a private lesson, if the student truly works best in a one-to-one session, or is disruptive to a group due to his/her own insecurity; but I strongly feel that to become the best writer one can be, nothing beats a workshop for facilitating growth.
These two kinds of responses to "What do YOU think?" indicate to me that what students need most in establishing their strongest writing skills is to first establish themselves as credible critics of writing. The writing workshop format allows students to learn self-editing skills by starting with editing the work of their classmates and published authors. Public critique sessions following the sharing of writing pieces thus lay the foundation for writers to learn evaluation techniques that will eventually transfer to their self-evaluation skills. Now, no one can be completely objective about his/her own writing (I have a critique partner to keep me "objective"), but learning to critique certainly enables us to accept and integrate suggested revisions without destructive defensive posturing. In short, the workshop format of writing instruction stresses writing as a communication process, not the fulfillment of a teacher's assignment.
If writers create works based only on what others expect or demand from them, they are not truly communicating, only fashioning words to serve others; not creating, but merely reiterating; not sighing with pride upon completion of a written work, but rather, with relief to be finished. If I, as a teacher of writing,javascript:void(0) do not lead my students into careful examination of the words they choose and the reasons they choose them, I fail to assist the communication process.
So when students don't participate in the discussions of their fellow students' work, they overlook the application of the discussion to their own work. I have had parents say to me, "My child is bored having to listen to the other kids' pieces and comment on them. Can't we have a private lesson instead?" Sometimes I do make time to give a private lesson, if the student truly works best in a one-to-one session, or is disruptive to a group due to his/her own insecurity; but I strongly feel that to become the best writer one can be, nothing beats a workshop for facilitating growth.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Why Are Most of My Students Asian or Indian?
Today an Asian parent asked me why most of my students are Asian- or Indian-Americans? Why not American-Americans?
Good question. I was recently pondering that myself. Possible answers:
1) Children whose parents do not speak English as their first language want to be sure that their children are getting as much high-level English instruction as possible, because they recognize that the mastery of English, and the ability to think critically in English, will empower their children in this country, as well as in many other nations throughout the world.
1a) American parents take English for granted, and many equate the ability to write a grammatically correct sentence with strong writing skills. They also see that their kids get decent grades, and that is enough for many Americans who have grown up in an educational system which stresses scores and sports over learning.
2) Highly intelligent Asian and Indian children feel unchallenged by the often superficial level of instruction in literature and language arts that they receive in regular elementary and middle schools. Though some of these kids belong in "gifted" programs, they may not have passed the tests back in 2nd or 3rd grade due to having insufficient English skills as new immigrants, like their parents. They might quickly catch up with their American counterparts in English, but by the time they do, they are in English classes designed for non-gifted students, and they lose interest in writing out of sheer boredom.
2a) Some Americans whose children are already in "gifted" programs feel that their kids must be learning more than average kids learn about writing, so why pay for extra classes and add more work to their already over-stressed, over-scheduled kids?
3) Kids of non-English speaking parents often have more difficulty with writing in English than kids of native English speakers; thus, the immigrant parents hire me as a remedial teacher.
3a) American parents who could never write well themselves may not value writing as an art, but rather, view writing as a skill; thus, they hire tutors, not writing instructors, who help their kids improve skills related to the mechanics of writing, rather than the substance and style.
4) Math- and science-focused immigrant families, with parents whose jobs do not involve much English writing, hire me to provide balance for their children by igniting their children's interest in writing, since they cannot do so themselves. They prioritize writing because they recognize, via their own communication problems in America, how beneficial clear writing skills can be.
4a) Many American parents, seeing how the Asian and Indian cultures have exceeded our schools in math and science progress, feel the need to focus their kids on scientific and mathematical studies to keep up with our "competition." This need to compete has caused many Americans to neglect and place a lower priority upon the language arts.
5) Many Asian and Indian kids I've met are avid readers whose appreciation for literature suffers in school, where writing instruction focuses not on meaning, but on formulaic assignments that restrict creativity and make writing a pressure-filled task.
5a) American parents may think that their avid readers learn how to write by osmosis and don't need more than good literature as examples to emulate.
These are some of the reasons that seem logical to me as answers to the question posed in this post's title. If you have any to suggest, please comment here.
Good question. I was recently pondering that myself. Possible answers:
1) Children whose parents do not speak English as their first language want to be sure that their children are getting as much high-level English instruction as possible, because they recognize that the mastery of English, and the ability to think critically in English, will empower their children in this country, as well as in many other nations throughout the world.
1a) American parents take English for granted, and many equate the ability to write a grammatically correct sentence with strong writing skills. They also see that their kids get decent grades, and that is enough for many Americans who have grown up in an educational system which stresses scores and sports over learning.
2) Highly intelligent Asian and Indian children feel unchallenged by the often superficial level of instruction in literature and language arts that they receive in regular elementary and middle schools. Though some of these kids belong in "gifted" programs, they may not have passed the tests back in 2nd or 3rd grade due to having insufficient English skills as new immigrants, like their parents. They might quickly catch up with their American counterparts in English, but by the time they do, they are in English classes designed for non-gifted students, and they lose interest in writing out of sheer boredom.
2a) Some Americans whose children are already in "gifted" programs feel that their kids must be learning more than average kids learn about writing, so why pay for extra classes and add more work to their already over-stressed, over-scheduled kids?
3) Kids of non-English speaking parents often have more difficulty with writing in English than kids of native English speakers; thus, the immigrant parents hire me as a remedial teacher.
3a) American parents who could never write well themselves may not value writing as an art, but rather, view writing as a skill; thus, they hire tutors, not writing instructors, who help their kids improve skills related to the mechanics of writing, rather than the substance and style.
4) Math- and science-focused immigrant families, with parents whose jobs do not involve much English writing, hire me to provide balance for their children by igniting their children's interest in writing, since they cannot do so themselves. They prioritize writing because they recognize, via their own communication problems in America, how beneficial clear writing skills can be.
4a) Many American parents, seeing how the Asian and Indian cultures have exceeded our schools in math and science progress, feel the need to focus their kids on scientific and mathematical studies to keep up with our "competition." This need to compete has caused many Americans to neglect and place a lower priority upon the language arts.
5) Many Asian and Indian kids I've met are avid readers whose appreciation for literature suffers in school, where writing instruction focuses not on meaning, but on formulaic assignments that restrict creativity and make writing a pressure-filled task.
5a) American parents may think that their avid readers learn how to write by osmosis and don't need more than good literature as examples to emulate.
These are some of the reasons that seem logical to me as answers to the question posed in this post's title. If you have any to suggest, please comment here.
Monday, January 25, 2010
On Critiques (a long overdue article)
Today was the first day of my 2010 classes. 2010! Unbelievable--especially when my former students write me that they're graduating from college and need advice on an essay for graduate school!
My current students learned today that a truly constructive critique session is TRULY CONSTRUCTIVE. They helped each other construct their revisions by offering suggestions like a team, with everyone rooting for their workshop teammates in a noncompetitive pursuit of excellence. I asked them to take notes about the ideas suggested by their classmates, and to decide later whether to incorporate those changes, "if they make sense in terms of what you want your reader to experience." The workshop atmosphere held no defensive posturing, no stubborn frowns, no teary eyes, or grimaces--only nods, pondering looks, and note-taking. By considering their fellow young writers' ideas, they not only showed respect and openness, but also gave their critics more confidence in their own skills.
Learning to respond to literature as a writer, not just a reader, with an eye on meaning and style, eventually carries over into the critic's own writing. Once I can get students to think and react critically to what they read, not just absorb words to regurgitate them later in superficial summaries, then I can create writers whose analytical skills translate into carefully chosen words. Too often, writing students tell me that the only criticism they get from peer editors AND teachers in regular school is negative, focused on problems with grammar, spelling, punctuation, and form. Or they get useless comments, like "great vocabulary," without any comments on how that "vocabulary" moved their readers/listeners. Using sophisticated words means nothing if the writer uses those words merely to impress, rather than to clearly and vividly communicate thoughts and word-pictures, as well as touch the reader in some way. Problem-centered and vague comments during critique sessions are DESTRUCTIVE in that they destroy the joy in the writing process by ignoring the meaning of, and the reasons behind, specific word choices. The purpose of writing is communication, sharing images and ideas to establish connections between the writer's and the reader's perceptions; all words should contribute to that purpose. The constructive critique session used in workshop-style writing classes is the only way to inspire awe for words and awesome writing--my goal as both a teacher AND a writer.
I was proud of my first "workshop team" today. I look forward to fostering a team spirit that enables everyone to progress happily this year.
My current students learned today that a truly constructive critique session is TRULY CONSTRUCTIVE. They helped each other construct their revisions by offering suggestions like a team, with everyone rooting for their workshop teammates in a noncompetitive pursuit of excellence. I asked them to take notes about the ideas suggested by their classmates, and to decide later whether to incorporate those changes, "if they make sense in terms of what you want your reader to experience." The workshop atmosphere held no defensive posturing, no stubborn frowns, no teary eyes, or grimaces--only nods, pondering looks, and note-taking. By considering their fellow young writers' ideas, they not only showed respect and openness, but also gave their critics more confidence in their own skills.
Learning to respond to literature as a writer, not just a reader, with an eye on meaning and style, eventually carries over into the critic's own writing. Once I can get students to think and react critically to what they read, not just absorb words to regurgitate them later in superficial summaries, then I can create writers whose analytical skills translate into carefully chosen words. Too often, writing students tell me that the only criticism they get from peer editors AND teachers in regular school is negative, focused on problems with grammar, spelling, punctuation, and form. Or they get useless comments, like "great vocabulary," without any comments on how that "vocabulary" moved their readers/listeners. Using sophisticated words means nothing if the writer uses those words merely to impress, rather than to clearly and vividly communicate thoughts and word-pictures, as well as touch the reader in some way. Problem-centered and vague comments during critique sessions are DESTRUCTIVE in that they destroy the joy in the writing process by ignoring the meaning of, and the reasons behind, specific word choices. The purpose of writing is communication, sharing images and ideas to establish connections between the writer's and the reader's perceptions; all words should contribute to that purpose. The constructive critique session used in workshop-style writing classes is the only way to inspire awe for words and awesome writing--my goal as both a teacher AND a writer.
I was proud of my first "workshop team" today. I look forward to fostering a team spirit that enables everyone to progress happily this year.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Another Point About College Essays
College admissions essays do NOT have to reveal some sordid past, some tragedy survived, or some monumental obstacle overcome. If you can show the depth of your character in an example or two from your daily life, AND show your introspective abilities in your analysis of the example(s), you will thereby show admissions folks that you have the maturity to step outside yourself and grow--something they can't teach you in college, but something that will absolutely enable your best learning in college. Even everyday experiences such as struggling in your first job, or feeling awkward in a social setting, can provide the basis for a fine essay IF you show that you learned from the experience you now share with your reader. Prove yourself a learner by showing concrete examples of meaningful (but not necessarily dramatic) life experiences, no matter how mundane they sound to you.
Writing College Essays
Show, don't tell. That's it, that's all. Same advice for every genre of writing, folks. When you show readers what you want them to perceive, and allow them to make their own conclusions or labels, based on the evidence you provide, then you give credence to your readers' intelligence and challenge them to think as they read your words. If you spoon-feed readers with "telling" sentences like "I learned to take initiative during my first job, and I earned the respect of my fellow employees," you dictate what they should believe about you, but never truly make them believe it. "Telling" words not only leave no memorable images in their minds, but also leave readers wondering whether you can even prove your assertions with vivid examples.
When you write an essay for school, you must back up assertions (topic sentences, theses) with details or evidence before adding your commentary. Without those details, you cannot prove your points. Likewise, if you write about your character traits in your college essay, but don't back up your claims, you won't leave any impression except a dubious one. And you won't get yourself admitted to college.
Memorable details are the key to college admission and to writing words that people want to read. Show, don't tell. That's it. That's all.
When you write an essay for school, you must back up assertions (topic sentences, theses) with details or evidence before adding your commentary. Without those details, you cannot prove your points. Likewise, if you write about your character traits in your college essay, but don't back up your claims, you won't leave any impression except a dubious one. And you won't get yourself admitted to college.
Memorable details are the key to college admission and to writing words that people want to read. Show, don't tell. That's it. That's all.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)