Author: UofL University Writing Center

Writing, Nerves, and Gaining a Sense of Being a “Writer”

Bronwyn Williams, Director

A student in a secondary school in a small town in England tells me that it gets harder to write when he knows there is a grade hanging over the assignment.

A graduate student at an English university, at work on her Ph.D., talks about how anxious she feels while waiting for a response on a dissertation chapter she has sent to her faculty director.

A faculty member, with many published books and journal articles, asks me to read a draft of a chapter for a new book she is writing, but admits that to do so makes her nervous.

This semester I have been away from the University Writing Center, though issues of writing and supporting writers have not been very far from my mind. I am writing this from England where I am currently on a Fulbright Research Fellowship at the University of Sheffield. I’ve been visiting classrooms in colleges and secondary schools here, and talking with students and teachers about the challenges – and opportunities – they find in writing and reading. The fellowship has offered me the opportunity to spend the spring conducting research in a new setting, and the chance to meet and talk with new faculty and graduate student colleagues.

In all of these settings, one of the common things I have noticed about how people talk about reading and writing, is the anxiety that often emerges when it comes time for someone else to read what a writer has written. Regardless of how experienced, or how confident, these writers may be, there are always some circumstances that make them nervous about the way others are going to respond to their writing. Maybe the piece they are writing is going to count for a large part of a course grade. Or perhaps the writing is exploring new ideas or a new genre in the piece she is working on. Or maybe the writer has been told in the past that he is not a good writer and he has come to believe that judgment. For whatever reason, when we put our writing out for others to judge we understand that we are being judged on part of ourselves – our ideas, our identities. No wonder we feel nervous.

Visitors to the University Writing Center often talk to us about feeling similar anxieties. Some people feel they have to apologize for the quality of their writing before a session begins and we’ve even had a chance to read the draft. It’s no longer a surprise to me when I read the writing of someone who has told me that her writing isn’t very good, and find strengths in the writing which the student has begun to doubt are present. Then there are the writers who feel their struggles with writing are a confirmation of the negative judgments of past teachers, when, in fact, their problems are more about having to learn to write in a new genre or about unfamiliar content. At the Writing Center we are always honest about the issues a writer has to address to produce an effective piece of writing. Yet we are also honest about recognizing writing strengths that students may not believe they possess. One of the great pleasures of working in the Writing Center, is seeing our consultants not only help writers with their immediate concerns, but also give them a new perspective on their identities as writers

One of the insights that has become clearer to me through my research this spring is how important it is to have a self-perception of competence and agency in order to be a successful writer. While a set of skills is, of course, important, students – and faculty – who doubt those skills or question their power to demonstrate their abilities, often find themselves unable to complete writing projects successfully. Unfortunately, in our system of education where short-answer, high-stakes testing has become the dominant measure of competence, there is less and less room for thoughtful, nuanced writing, even at the university level. Part of what we provide at the Writing Center is a space where writers can receive honest, constructive response without high-stakes judgment. It is, in many ways, one of the purest learning environments on campus. In this learning space, we can often help writers both with their immediate writing projects, but also help them rethink their identities as competent, confident writers.

Does this mean that that we can make all of a writer’s anxieties disappear. No, I can’t promise that. (Full disclosure: I’m nervous in writing this and sending it off to my assistant director for her feedback and then publishing it online – and I’ve been writing professionally for more than thirty years. The nerves never completely go away.) What we can do, though, is offer strategies to help an individual handle new and unfamiliar writing situations effectively. And sometimes, in the course of offering these strategies, we also help students develop a more positive, and more productive, perception of themselves as “writers.”

Uncommon Resume Tips, Or How to Get that Extra Edge

Meagan Ray, Consultant

Hey friends, it’s time we talked about resumes. With summer approaching (and it truly is approaching, regardless of how much more work one has before getting there), it’s a natural time to start working now on a resume for summer jobs or internships with a later date, or to begin applying for fall positions. It can be a daunting task, but here are some tips I’ve picked up along the way that aren’t necessarily given as conventional advice. This isn’t a comprehensive list of tips; they’re some of the things I’ve noted aren’t usually included on the resume checklists I’ve found.

Spell out all your acronyms. Your reader will know that the “KY” or “IN” in your address means Kentucky or Indiana, but it’s always more professional to spell it out. That goes for the “Street” in your “St.” or the “University of Louisville” in your “UofL.”
Offer a projected graduation date if you’re still in school in your “education” section. Even if things are up in the air, it lets your future employers know where you stand and when you could potentially go full-time.
Unless your grade point average (GPA) is above a 3.0, leave it off your resume, unless your potential employer notes otherwise.
Giving your contact information is a good time to evaluate what your e-mail address says about you. Using a school e-mail is a safe bet because there’s not much of an opportunity for miscommunication. What sounds like personality can actually sound unprofessional to an employer, so keep the gonnagitcrunk@website.com or cutebubblyandsingle@website.com between friends, not employers.
You can note both your permanent address and current address if your housing fluctuates with the school year.
If you’re turning in a resume by hand, print it on resume paper, if possible. It’s more expensive than “regular” paper because it’s weightier, but it’s a simple step that can let potential employers know immediately how you’re willing to go out of your way to be professional. Or at least out of your way to get special paper. A whole box can be an investment, so if you’re only applying a few places, ask if you can buy it by the sheet at the office supplies store.
When noting how long you’ve worked at a location in your “job history,” note the month instead of the semester. Looking back on my old resume, I felt silly noting that I’d been a Resident Assistant (RA) in “Fall 2011-Spring 2012,” because not every employer is knowledgeable about the semester schedule and not every school’s semesters are identical. At my alma matter, our finals week was mid-May, whereas here, it’s the end of April. If applying to a job with someone familiar with Louisville’s scheduling, they wouldn’t be aware that I’d worked several weeks longer. It sounds silly, but there’s no room for error when noting months instead.
Another faux pas from my past resume (it haunts me even now) is how I assumed readers would know what certain activities meant. In listing extra-curriculars which may be unfamiliar to a reader, you may wish to note what kind of organization it is in parenthesis. For example, my campus’ theatre group was called the “Players.” Listing that I was a “Player” for several semesters doesn’t automatically translate to someone outside of my college’s circle. In editing my own resume, I’ve written “Players (theatre club)” in order to clarify.
Lastly, know your audience and know thyself. It’s unnecessary to tailor your resume to each opportunity, but knowing what kind of audience you have will alter your focus. For instance, when I applied to graduate school, I spent more time noting my involvement at my undergraduate institution, but when I apply for summer jobs, I plan to highlight my employment history rather than being a “Player.”

One of the hardest things to do as I update my resume is to hit the delete key, which is why this is the easiest advice to dispense. Know what is important in presenting yourself and what’s too old to keep. I was super involved as a high schooler, but is this necessary information for an employer considering how long I’ve been out of high school? It would be if I were a younger student, but at this point, it’s time to delete the 4-H awards I received when I was fifteen. I’ve got a theory that this is more difficult for younger students in my generation who have often been pushed to be involved in extra-curriculars in hopes of filling a resume long before one’s work history fills it, so deleting any line feels like deleting all the work spent earning that line. Editing my own resume has been hard, but I want employers to know the best me, who works in the Writing Center as a Graduate Teaching Assistant (GTA), rather than the me who was in a club for one semester freshman year. (Sorry dear reader, it’s also the time of year for rambling about myself rather than writing papers).

Good luck!

The Importance of the Graduate Cohort

Alex Bohen, Consultant

As I began to brainstorm about what I wanted to discuss in my blog post I kept trying to remember what my first impression of the Writing Center was. I entered into the Writing Center for the first time in late August to take part in orientation. I remember seeing Dr. Bronwyn Williams, the director of the Writing Center, standing at the door welcoming everyone in and radiating an enthusiasm I was unaccustomed to at nine in the morning. Next, I saw Adam Robinson, assistant director, manning the coffee pot in a manner I would soon become familiar with. I continued to think back on that day and the next image that came to my mind was the myriad of strangers populating the rest of the room. These people were my new cohort and over the next several months they would become the greatest source of information and learning in my life. I have come to know that if I have a question my cohort is who to turn to for the answer. Having trouble helping a client? Ask the cohort. Wondering how clearly the thesis statement of your seminar paper reads? Ask the cohort. Not sure what classes to take next semester? Ask the cohort.

I want to focus on the cohort a little more closely. As a student and consultant in the Writing Center I can’t express how valuable my cohort has been to me. My only source of lament is that the cohort didn’t have more people in it. That is why I am incredibly happy to highlight and plug the Peer Mentoring program, headed up by two members of my cohort, Amy McCleese Nichols and Michelle Day. The program will pair new first year MAs with a second year MA who can function as the first building block for each student’s personal cohort. I think this is a great opportunity for all parties involved. New students will get an insider’s view on how to balance the stress of academic and personal life, as well as a familiar face at department social functions. Second year students get the opportunity to pass on all the helpful tips they have amassed after navigating one year of the program. I am excited to take part in this program and I hope that I can be as valuable to a new student as so many people have been to me during my first year at Louisville.

Time Away: One Key to Productivity

Brit Mandelo, Consultant

Though a variety of factors can contribute to low productivity, burn-out—minor or major—is the source of woe for many, many writers who are juggling high stress levels, large required outputs of work, and tight deadlines. I’m not talking procrastination; that’s a whole different animal. What I mean, here, is the sensation of doom and desperation, accompanied by a deep exhaustion, that can follow on the heels of a hard run of productivity. You just feel wrung out, but there’s still more to be done. Ignore the deadline for a bit, though. While it may sound counterintuitive, one of the solutions that can help is taking time away from the project in question: for ten minutes or for a day, a break offers a chance to recuperate.

Giving the brain a chance to rest is no different than giving the body a chance to rest. If you were doing a strenuous physical activity, you’d likely take a breather before moving on to the next challenge. The same principal can work to stave off burn-out, at least temporarily—long enough to rally and finish that research paper, possibly. The idea is to count in that break time as part of the process; don’t worry about the deadline while taking a break, or your stress level isn’t likely to decrease much at all.

Instead, if the half-finished sentence staring you down is giving you a headache, step away. Take a short walk, do the dishes, listen to music, go outside—whatever fits your fancy. An activity that isn’t mentally challenging offers extra breathing room, though sometimes a pleasant brain-stimulation, like a favorite movie or album, can be refreshing as well. Washing dishes or picking up around the house are a few of my preferred necessary distractions. (That way, the break also feels a little productive, too.) Don’t think about the project that’s driving you up a wall. If an idea happens, delightful. If not, don’t worry about it. Take the time to breathe, to loosen up, to let go of some of that doom.

When you return to the page after the break, it might not be easy, but it also might not be harrowing and awful.

Helping Writers Be Specific, or Why “What Do You Mean Here” is an Important Question

Daniel Conrad, Consultant

As a writing center consultant, I regularly hear students attempting to explain why they feel the need to come to the writing center. When asked why they have scheduled a visit, regularly students explain that they are simply “not good at writing.” Obviously, it is almost never the case that a student is simply born without the innate inability to write well. These students, who seem to be under the impression that writing is either “good” or “bad” and it is produced by writers who are either “good” or “bad” at their craft, most often benefit from exercises in specificity. As it turns out, in most of these cases, the work needed to make difference between what students perceive as “good” or “bad” is as simple as asking “What do you mean here?”

Whenever a student is struggling with clarity, either on a structural or sentence level, it almost always seems helpful to begin by asking them to explain. “What do you mean?” offers the student a chance to explain themselves beyond the confines of the paper. It allows them to make several passes at what might be a difficult-to-articulate concept or thought, and often results in a much more satisfying explanation which can be worked into the piece. By examining a statement more intensely, a writer is able to see the multiplicity of a statement, and recognizing the presence of undesired meanings is the first step to eliminating them.

Frequently, problems of clarity can be solved by fixing specific language. One common temptation when writing papers is to beef up language by dipping into thesauruses. Occasionally, clients will have used thesaurus and synonym tools throughout their paper in an attempt to spruce up a paper, but don’t consider the weight of that particular word which results in an undesired connotative meaning or a confusing construction. This is easily avoided by carefully checking the denotation of a word before using it, and heavily considering the connotation relative to the thought being expressed in the sentence. Even easier to fix, a writer only needs to ask, “What do I mean by this word?” Only in certain specific situations should a writer need to go out of their way to define a term or phrase for a reader. If it seems that a better word might better carry the weight of your message, use it! Not all synonyms are created equal. In the same way that a painter would not use just any shade of a color to set a mood in a painting, a writer should be deliberate in their word choice so as to best convey the message they wish to convey.

Once in a while the question “What do you mean?” heralds shocking results. “I don’t know.” “I’m not sure.” “Uhhh…” This happens to the best writers, and while it is certainly acceptable to not know everything, it is encouraged that writers limit the contents of their papers to things they can explain. If a concept seems insurmountable to explain, or seems wholly irrelevant, it is sometimes best to just omit it. Like pruning away dead leaves from a plant, removing confusing, extraneous, or downright nonsensical sections of a paper will only emphasize the well-crafted and developed facets of the work.

Ultimately, students who fear “bad” writing should be more concerned about nonspecific writing. While the two things are not inherently related, students seem to very often conflate the two. Fears of being a poor writer regularly seem to be dispersed after arguments are filled out, language becomes more developed and specific, and the structures of arguments are more directly linked, all of which can emerge from simply asking one’s self and answering, “What do I mean here?”

iPads in the Writing Center

Sam Bowles, Consultant

Just recently our Writing Center added to its technological arsenal a collection of iPads available for consultants to use with clients during sessions. As technology has always been an area of extreme interest for me, I actually piloted the use of an iPad during consultations last semester. Here are some of the key areas where I think iPads (or any tablets for that matter) have a lot to offer the kind of work we do in the Writing Center.

Planning

We help writers at all stages of the process, including the brainstorming or planning stage. The iOS platform has a litany of apps that can be helpful for getting started with writing projects. One that I like, IdeaSketch, allows users to create concept maps or flow charts and then convert those into a hierarchical outline. The process can also work in reverse, creating a traditional outline and then converting it to a mind map, both of which can be continually manipulated, moving items around with ease. IdeaSketch also has a nice iPhone app, so the file created during a session can be emailed to a student with a compatible device, or a PDF can be printed or emailed if needed.

Reviewing

Tablets can also be a great way to workshop drafts. Using a program like Notability, users can not only annotate a document in ways that mimic working with an analog document, but additionally, one can zoom in particular parts of the paper, allowing the consultant and client alike to focus on an isolated issued. Once the session is completed, the annotated document can easily be emailed to or printed for the client.

Sharing

Finally, the iPad adds a lot to sessions because it puts access to endless resources at your fingertips. I regularly use the iPad in session to help clients look of terms, review citation information from websites like the Purdue OWL, or even search our library’s databases for articles. Sure, this could be done on a computer, but with an iPad the session doesn’t have to be interrupted by the move to a computer station. And the iPad is physically closer to a printed document that can be passed back and forth and set aside quickly, unlike a computer monitor and corresponding peripherals. Additionally, as with almost all the resources iPads have to offer, links to websites, handouts, and other resources can be quickly and easily emailed to the student.

Modeling

iPads can add a lot to Writing Center consultations, making much of what we do already more convenient and accessible, but another reason to use such mobile devices in sessions is to demonstrate for clients how they could be using the mobile technology many of them already have to serve them in their academic work.

Students are using their phones and tablets to perform web searches already; why not show them ways they can use their devices to perform more academically relevant queries? They are using apps to find out what time a movie starts on Saturday; why not show them some apps that will help them find and understand a given term and its synonyms? They are using their phones and tablets to organize their lives already; why not show them the ways they can use their devices to organize their thoughts and ideas for upcoming projects? Could we grab a physical dictionary just to make a point? Sure. But by showing students good, reputable and often free mobile dictionary apps as well as the host of other uses and applications available on mobile platforms, we are demonstrating for them skills they can use on their own outside of the library or Writing Center with devices they always have available.

Academically Speaking

Mandi Strickland, Consultant

“Can you say that…more academically?” I hear myself asking a student and pointing to a specific passage. She is writing an analytical essay, and there is a shift in the tone of her writing. She has slipped from the learned, written language of the institution, into her own dialect. I am reluctant, because I do not want her to think that her ideas are not clear. But, I tell her anyway, knowing that she’d thank me for the better grade if it came to that.

Basic linguistic theory tells us that within the educational system, access and continued desire for access based on propensity for success is based on socioeconomic status, which is, in turn, based on the degree to which the social dialect adheres to standardized English. Basil Bernstein demonstrates this by evaluating the use of “elaborate” and “restrictive codes” in speech. Middle class children are more likely to use elaborate codes, which is the code preferred by the schools. Elaborate codes provide contextual information, while restrictive codes are context specific. Restrictive codes used by working-class children are judged by the educational system as inadequate; they do not provide the contextual information that the institution seeks, despite that they may be communicating the same information.

Linguistic problems are societal problems—the disparity between social dialects and standardized English reinforces social inequality. Bloomfield argues that social hierarchy mimics the linguistic hierarchy: “The higher the social position of the non-standard speaker, the more nearly does he approach the standard language.” The student is ranked based upon her capacity to adhere to standardized English, her fluency in the language of power.

With this knowledge in mind, I advise my student to make changes to her paper. I tell her, “What you have here is OK, and your message has been communicated. I get it. But, here, now and in your future as a student, you will be expected to speak ‘academically.’” I wonder, should I tell her that this is the language of patriarchy, or that speaking academically is active in the maintenance of social inequality? That she, as a minority, will have to adopt the language of the majority in order to be a social success?

Instead, I walk the fine line of helping the student to remain true to her social identity, while also doing the best that I can to provide her with tools needed to reconcile this identity with the language of the academy.

Silencing the Dissertation Demons

Jennifer Marciniak – Assistant Director of the Virtual Writing Center

As a PhD candidate I have a lot of demons. For the majority of my doctoral career they have been there. They come to me in the form of voices –professors, colleagues, family members, even people who have no idea what it takes to undergo such a momentous task as a doctorate. Usually these voices are picking away at the back of my brain reminding me: “Only a week left before the rough draft is due, what the hell are you doing watching another episode of The Walking Dead when you have nothing for your lit review!?” These voices started popping up during the initial two years of coursework. These annoying, lizard-tongued declarations always found me during that final push before the final papers were due. And they were loud. Overbearing. And, sometimes, overwhelming.

Even so, those seminar class demons do not hold a candle to those presently lording over my dissertation. As I begin this foray into the prospectus, which is the proposal or introduction to the dissertation, these demons are much nastier, and seemingly much less controllable. I say this because a dissertation is nothing like a seminar paper. You are not bound by (significant) deadlines like in a seminar class. Therefore, it can be much more difficult for people like me who need structure to hold themselves accountable. These demons are not harping on about deadlines. That’s small potatoes. These voices are a lot more destructive and vicious, creeping around in your psyche as you battle writer’s block saying, “You have no idea what you are doing. What are you even doing in this program? You are a complete failure.” And I can tell you from experience – and the blank pages that should be my prospectus – that it is hard to listen to this rhetoric and not start believing it.

So, I started looking for help. What I found is that I am not alone with dealing with these demons. I knew that to a certain extent, though. I am part of a cohort of seven doctoral candidates dealing with the same issues, but it’s nice to see it in writing that you are not a complete botch on the academic landscape (like my demons tell me every day). The Writing Center at the University of North Carolina – Chapel Hill has resources for dissertation writers like me who need some consolation during this mammoth undertaking. One of the most beneficial resources they offer is a handout called “Silencing Your Inner Critic.” The information provided was a bit shocking – it was like they had a microphone inside my head and were recording the demon voices as they ridiculed me mercilessly. I think many writers going through a similar situation would benefit from an understanding voice, so I thought I would share this self-help resource here. It starts out with questions and bulleted “critic” voices. While UNC-Chapel Hill uses “critic,” I changed it to “demon,” as I thought it more appropriate for the way I hear them in my head:

What is your demon’s greatest fear?

That you’ll sound dumb
That you’ll disappoint a mentor
That you are an academic impostor
That you are not enough of a genius
That you won’t get a job
That you’re missing something within yourself (you aren’t talented enough)
That you’re missing something in the research (you didn’t find the famous article)
That you’re not worthy to make your claim
That your idea isn’t significant enough

When does your demon speak most often?

While you are writing
Before you sit down to write
After you’ve drafted something
While you are doing things unrelated to your project
Anytime, anywhere

Whose voice does your demon resemble?

A parent
A teacher
A smarty pants

I originally put an asterisk (*) by the bullet points that I hear most often from my demons, but realized afterward that I put an asterisk after every single one of them. So I deleted them. My demons pop up to tell me how much I suck as a doctoral student pretty much all the time. When I am washing dishes, cleaning out the closets, folding laundry. I am constantly thinking about writing, but also constantly battling reasons why I can’t sit down and do it. Because of whom my demon voices resemble, I am shell-shocked into silence because of the fear of sounding dumb, disappointing people, and basically being inadequate. But what now? UNC- Chapel Hill does not leave you hanging. They provide do-it-yourself questions to help you battle these demons:

Where might constructive criticism help you in the writing process? Who might you consult for constructive criticism and when might you schedule that consultation?
In what other situations does your demon speak up? How do you respond to your demon in those instances and move forward?
What might you say back to your demon when he/she pipes up?

While I will not divulge what I say to my demons (it’s inappropriate for a public forum), I think there is definitely something to be said for consulting someone outside of your committee for assistance. Many university writing centers offer dissertation workshops, or “boot camps,” that aim to get participants on a schedule. The overall goal is to jump start the dissertation and get the participant writing while providing simultaneous feedback. Some workshops are designed for those who are just starting the dissertation, while others are for those who are finishing up and need support with chapter revisions. Other workshops are designed to assist participants throughout an entire semester, sometimes two semesters, providing a more rigid schedule, as well as communal feedback.

The University of Louisville Writing Center held its first dissertation writing “retreat” in May 2012. I was one of the writing center consultants working with participants finishing their dissertations. For five days I worked with two doctoral candidates on chapter revisions. It was exhausting work, but at the end of the week there was significant progress. And, reportedly, a silencing of the participants’ own demon voices. Since the retreat was so successful, The University of Louisville Writing Center will offer its second dissertation writing retreat in May 2013. The retreat, which caters to students from all disciplines, allows students to write, revise, and rework their dissertation chapters during the course of each day. Participants also have the benefit of one-on-one help with a writing center tutor as well as group activities with other participants. Those interested in participating in the workshop must have an approved dissertation proposal or prospectus, completed (or nearly completed) the data material gathering process, the approval of their dissertation advisor, and the commitment to writing each of the five days of the retreat. Applications for the retreat must include a copy of the proposal or prospectus, a one-page cover letter indicating why the retreat will be beneficial, and a letter of support from a faculty advisor. Deadline for applications is April 1, 2013.

For more helpful (and encouraging) tips from the University of North Carolina – Chapel Hill Writing Center like “Silencing Your Inner Critic,” visit their website.

All’s Fair in Love and the Writing Center: Adapting to Unfamiliar Genres

Michelle Day, Consultant

At the Writing Center, we always say that we will work on any type of writing. Once, that even meant working on a love letter.

Since Valentine’s Day is coming up, I have been hoping I might get to tutor another lovestruck student (no luck yet). But I am now realizing that, having never read, received, or composed a love letter, I have little context for the conventions of that writing genre: how it should be organized, how it should be formatted (do college sweethearts expect a “Works Cited” page?).

Affectionate missives are not the only genre my Writing Center colleagues and I have little experience with. So why do we always ask clients to bring in anything and everything they’ve written and want help with? And how do we navigate unfamiliar genre waters?

Here, I’d like to draw on the expertise of some of my fellow consultants’ blog posts to show how I might approach tutoring a student on composing written declarations of love.

On January 22, Scott Lasley wrote about the importance of consultants seeking to learn from a tutoring session, rather than just teach. By being curious and willing to learn, he says, “we not only see what other writers are doing, but we also open our minds and by extension, our writing, to new areas of intellectual exploration.
On January 28, Katelyn Wilkinson wrote a post about how consultants who aren’t “creative writers” can still provide helpful feedback to clients who want to work on a poem, short story, or other creative work. She suggests that tutors first establish the goals of the writer for the piece and give feedback on specific places that do or don’t work toward those goals.
On February 4, Lauren Short argues that “just as we have a closet for getting dressed, we also have an arsenal of skills for writing papers.” She encourages writers to experiment with different techniques, genre, and language in order to find a unique writing style—a process we at the Writing Center would love to be a part of.

All of my co-workers’ advice plays into how I would approach tutoring a client on a love letter. Like Katelynn suggests, I would need to first know the client’s goals for the letter. Does the writer want the letter to sound polished and formal or more conversational? Does the writer know if the recipient reciprocates his/her feelings? How vulnerable is the writer willing to be? What is the ultimate message (besides love) that he/she wants to communicate? Asking those questions about rhetorical purpose can give me a framework for evaluating whether specific parts of the letter are working toward that purpose.

Second, I would need to take Lauren’s advice and hep the writer to work within his/her personal strengths and style. Writing in a way that makes the writer feel comfortable would be essential to drafting a heartfelt, natural letter, rather than one that sounds forced and uncomfortable. And, identifying some of the writer’s strengths might help him/her play to those strengths on future writing assignments.

Finally, I would need to remember to learn from and listen to the client. Pretending like I have a complete grasp on all genres of writing wouldn’t make me any more familiar with how to write love letters. So, it would be important for me to focus on my own strengths—examining the rhetorical effects of certain ways of writing—and let the writer be the expert on what the end product should look like

This is a much oversimplified version of the process we go through to provide assistance on unfamiliar genres, and there are likely a lot of other strategies consultants use. How do you approach tutoring on a piece of writing you’re not accustomed to reading or writing?

The Rhetoric of Style: Writing is Like Getting Dressed in the Morning

Lauren Short, Consultant

You greet the day with panic because you overslept. Again. All that matters now is grabbing your things and making your way out the door looking reasonably presentable to society. Even though you may be thinking to yourself, “I have nothing to wear,” you somehow find a few articles that do the trick. When it comes to drafting a paper, a panic similar to a missed alarm can be so overwhelming that you think, “I have nothing to write,” but you shouldn’t feel pressure to create your magnum opus the first time. When it comes to writing (and getting dressed in the morning) you don’t have to reinvent the wheel–follow a formula that works for you and feel free to throw on an unexpected accessory once in a while.

While at the university, generally everyone has to wear a top, bottoms, and shoes (or at least one would hope). A typical paper includes an introduction, body, and conclusion. Though forms of style and styles of writing will differ within specific contexts, you get the basic idea. If you’ve got an outline to work from, the next step is easy. What really makes our work special is the extras that we use to define ourselves, our style, if you will, just as each person has a distinguishing characteristic about his or her choice in dress. If you’re not sure what your strengths are as a writer, feel free to ask! Ask your friends, family, professors, or your trusty neighbors at the writing center. Realizing that you have something unique about your writing, be it your indelible voice, your penchant for creating an organized paper, or your strength for research.

Recently, a student came in hoping I could help check over his paper before he turned it into class. From the get-go, I noticed that he had an unmistakable colloquial voice about his writing. While some of his paragraph structures needed work and he needed to find relevant research to validate his claims, I was taken with the way he could turn a common phrase and make it sound appropriate for an academic paper. Some of his words needed updating, but for the most part, I didn’t want him to lose his voice. This student’s voice was like a perfectly-tied bow tie upon his paper.

Another student needed help brainstorming for an upcoming paper and seemed desperate to lock down a thesis statement. Her sources were in order, her notes were organized, and she was able to answer all of my questions, indicating that she knew what she wanted to write, but was afraid it would all come out wrong. Since this student had indicated her skills for organization, I tried to steer her in the direction of asking questions that would answer her writing prompt. We made a few organized lists that detailed what she wanted to express and were able to cross out extraneous details until we were left with a few concise statements to form a thesis. This student’s organizational intuition was a polished pair of pearl earrings to pull together the rest of her ideas.

The overarching message here is that just as we have a closet for getting dressed, we also have an arsenal of skills for writing papers. One man’s strength is another’s weakness, so it just takes practice to determine what you need to work on and what you need to highlight in your writing. Remember that just like personal style, writing can be fun! Let it be the place where you show off your knowledge, entertain a crowd, or move someone to tears. Once you get the basics, feel free to play around a little. Write in a format you’ve never experienced before. Try coming from a different perspective. Mess with language. Because if we conform to a prescribed popular notion of what writing is, we will never develop anything new. Create a style all your own–and if you need any help along the way, you know where to find us…