Category: Process

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…

Writing without a Net: Ways to Start a Paper without an Assignment Sheet

Daniel Conrad, Consultant

When gearing up to write a paper, your greatest tool is likely to be an assignment sheet. These treasures, handed out in stacks by our benevolent professors and T.A.s, include valuable information regarding assignment details. These handouts offer our teachers an efficient way to answer perianal questions about the work such as content, length, scope, focus, and format. As demonstrated by a previous post, the ability to read an assignment sheet can unlock many of the mysteries students encounter during the writing process.

Unfortunately, a time will come when your dutiful professor has elected to let you fly solo. Without the aid of an assignment sheet, you will be expected to yield a work equally as impressive as previous, more structured work. Without the assignment sheet, the boundaries of a paper seem unidentifiable. What should I write about? What course should my argument take? What sort of sources should I use? The questions, all equally as gravitous and pressing, begin to mount, and suddenly the guidelines lain out on assignment sheets, which had previously seemed arbitrary and restricting seem much more comforting. Students without assignment sheets often seem to be floating around aimlessly in the space of the assignment. Luckily for students specific to the Humanities, there are strategies, questions ask in order to help anchor one’s self, even in the absence of the tethers of our assignment sheets.

How did this text affect me?

Close reading also provides great jumping-off points for developing a conversation. Was there a moment in the text which seemed especially potent, or had a certain rhetorical or emotional effect on you? Did this text remind you of anything you have read or seen in another context? Teachers develop courses with specific objectives and place texts together to stimulate certain conversations. If you see something interesting, run with it!

What is the history behind this text?

Time period is a great way to position a text. Authors, the socially aware people they often are, know a lot about art, culture, politics, religion, and so on. It is likely that they have been influenced, or at the very least, in conversation with significant events and conversations going on during their writing process. What were the big social questions when this text was written? What sort of society was the author living in?

What is the author doing here?

The relationship between the author, narrator, and the reader is always an important one. Is our author different than our narrator, or are they the same person? How does the relationship between the author and narrator affect the way we understand the story? Are the people telling the story reliable? What is their tone? How are they using language? Are they being manipulative, or do they have the reader’s best interest in mind? The way the author positions himself, his narrator, and his reader all play key roles in the delivery of a story, which in turn changes the way we read into events and characters. Discussing the ways this influences our reading is often a fruitful endeavor.

Which “Big Questions” are here?

Things like Truth, Ethics, Gender, Reality, Freedom, God, Power, Capitalism, War, and Consciousness are inarguably tough nuts to crack. The commonality between these topics is how difficult it is to come to a resting answer on anything. These questions are all intensely difficult to write on in any definitive way, which is precisely why so many authors write on them extensively! Your paper might not have the scope (or likely a distant enough due date) to answer any of these questions within, but it certainly can contain a discussion of the way the text in question addresses these huge, looming questions. Look at how the author encounters these questions for an interesting reading of a text, but be careful to avoid the temptation to try to solve the puzzles. Most of these questions have outlasted thousands of years of rigorous philosophical and humanistic debate. It is unlikely an answer will be found in a five page paper.

The number of possible entrances to a paper is astronomically high. Papers can take on any number of potential courses, as demonstrated by the unfathomable number of books, papers, lectures, and modes of discourse which populate the Academy. There is no shortage of ways to approach writing a paper — that is certain. Still, for those of us who prefer a bit more guidance – a target to aim at – these strategies offer a way into a text when the safety net of an assignment sheet isn’t available.

How to Analyze a Writing Prompt

Lauren Short, Consultant

Before you can start with that snappy opener that draws your reader in, you must first learn to decode the writing prompt. While this may seem like an ordinary task, I’ve seen many students who are overwhelmed by the amount of information included in a given writing prompt. They all seem to ask a similar question: How do I know that I’m including everything the professor wants? Luckily, there are a few questions you can ask yourself to aid in the process of understanding your professor’s expectations.

What type of paper am I being asked to write?

Narrative: A narrative essay asks you describe a personal experience.
Persuasive: A persuasive essay asks you to make an argument, or to persuade your reader. In addition to providing examples and support about your own argument, you’ll want to consider the opposing viewpoint’s relevance and explain why your argument makes a stronger case.
Expository: An expository essay typically asks you to compare/contrast two things or explain a cause/effect.

What sort of information do I need to include?

More than likely, your paper is going to call for research. How many sources does your professor ask you to include? Do the sources need to be varied? Peer-reviewed? One of the best places to start brainstorming is through research. Once you read an academic opinion on the topic you are writing, you’ll begin to understand the viewpoints in which you agree and disagree. You probably have a good idea of what you want to say, you just need to find sources that support your argument and examples that illustrate your point.

Who is my intended audience?

Considering your audience will help set the tone of your paper. If you are to assume a common reader, you will probably need to take a bit more time introducing your topic and explaining its significance. If your professor would like you to write ‘to the academy’ then you can probably omit redundant summary and spend more time talking about why your argument is significant instead of what your argument is.

Decoding a writing prompt can be a bit like translating a foreign language. You might feel like you have the gist of the assignment but there’s always that feeling that something might be missing. I encourage all writers to go back to the writing prompt once they have finished with their drafts. Make a list of the professor’s expectations and see if you can find them within your paper. If you’re missing something, go back and revise. With a little effort, you’ll get to make a satisfying check mark next to each expectation.

Collaborative Relationships: Multiple Sessions and Extended Projects

Brit Mandelo, Consultant

While the majority of our sessions are one-offs—a single meeting with a client, or multiple sessions each on a different piece of work—there are also, occasionally, larger projects extended over many meetings: thesis work, research projects and the like. Though I appreciate and enjoy all the sorts of work I do in the writing center, I’ve found that these can be the most rewarding and intriguing sorts of partnerships. The process of collaboration is distinctly different when it’s extended over several sessions with the same goal in mind; a space opens up for an authentic and often personal relationship to develop.

When a client comes in for several appointments each week, slowly working through an entire long project with me, I not only get a sense of their personal interests, academic interests, and writing style, but also of their deeper-seated needs and expectations. The dialogue that we can then develop—balancing theoretical and structural concerns over one week with usage and style concerns the next, for example—allows room for flexibility and intense collaboration that a single fifty-minute encounter can’t have. In some sense, this is just really obvious: of course working with someone for six hours is more intense and allows for more connection than working with someone for one hour. In another, I think there’s something more intriguing going on when it comes to issues of identity and communication.

The first session with a client often consists of a “feeling out,” be that first session the only one or not. The client and I aren’t yet familiar—I can’t be sure where their strengths lie, or their weaknesses, or what their concerns are (the ones they’re willing to acknowledge out loud, and the ones they aren’t). So, we end up working out a lot of that communicative background while discussing the writing in question. There’s work being done below (or above?) the level of the client-as-writer; we’re often also learning how to communicate as two individual people with distinct skills and needs. As we all come from unique identity positions, with significant differences between each of our roles within the university, engaging in that process of “how to talk to one another” is essential before productive work can begin. Sometimes it takes five minutes, but sometimes it takes the whole session as we come together over a piece of writing.

However, given even one more session on the same piece of work—when we’re both already familiar with each other and the project in question—much of the proverbial throat-clearing and the sounding-out process that opens a first session have already been taken care of. Often, we’ve had a chance to work through structural and theoretical concerns with the piece, too, if it’s shorter. That second session on the same piece allows us to dig deeper, answer further questions that might have developed in the interim, and slip into a more comfortable space with each other. Multiply that by a few more meetings, and the collaborative opportunity consistently develops into a real relationship based on the writing, but also on each of us as individuals with specific needs and skills—which we’ve had several chances to fit together, like puzzle pieces, for the most productive possible arrangement. After having this happen reliably several times, I now wish that more clients would make several appointments for their projects, so that this same comfortable space could develop between more of us.

Writer’s Block: Getting the Monkey off Your Back

Katelyn Wilkinson, Consultant

In my consultations recently, there has been an influx of students stuck on what they perceive to be step 1 – getting words on the page. It’s true, sometimes the hardest part of writing a paper is that first sentence. Writer’s block is not limited to freshman or English majors, either; it’s one of those universal problems nearly everyone will experience when trying to complete a project or put words on a page. It’s vicious; the monkey that leans over your shoulder, poking you in the back and yelling “Think, think, THINK!” as your synapses continue firing blanks. While there is no foolproof way to avoid this phenomenon, I have, through my academic career, come across several strategies I have found to be helpful in countering both critical and creative writer’s block.

Brainstorming
Writer’s block can occur at any stage of the writing process. The worst moment often happens when you’re given an assignment and can’t think where to begin. Rather than let writer’s block derail your project before it’s even begun, I have found that a great way to get past this is to brainstorm. Classmates, professors, and even coworkers can be great sounding boards to bounce ideas off of. In fact, one of my favorite functions of the Writing Center is that it offers the chance to brainstorm with consultants who have different interests, which can encourage you to approach your topic in a different way. Talking to those who have a different insight into your particular assignment or project could give you the jumpstart you need to start writing.

Research
Most students, when asked to write a research-based paper, understand the importance of citing sources that can back up their claims. However, what some don’t realize is the power of research to break through writer’s block. Whether you’re writing a 10-page essay or a poem, research into your field can often reveal new strategies or pose questions you might never have thought of on your own. For instance, when I’m working on a creative piece and find myself unsure of where to go next, I will often head to the poetry section of a library or bookstore and begin reading. More often than not, this research into what other poets are doing makes me think about ways I can address certain topics or utilize different writing techniques in my own work. Critical research can serve a similar function. Online journal articles can not only provide you with information, but their citations can also lead you to new sources about your topic. The ideas that can be generated by research are endless.

Taking a Break
When all else fails, never underestimate the power of stepping away from the page. Take a walk, step outside, get a cup of coffee – whatever gets you up out of your chair. Taking a break from your writing is often the best thing you can do for it. In Daniel Kahneman’s book Thinking Fast and Slow, he finds that intense amounts of studying have the same effect on the body as prolonged periods of exercise – it causes glucose levels drop, which lead to exhaustion. Unless something is done to replenish these levels, your brain’s computing power will not remain at its optimum level. Even though studying is important, maintaining balance between work and play is even more so. So, when you feel you’ve exhausted every avenue trying to break through your writer’s block, walk away, take a deep breath, and eat a piece of chocolate. Chances are you’ll come back to your writing and be more than ready to tackle it.

For other tactics to keep the monkey at bay, check out some of the strategies students from all over the world have found successful: http://www.insidehighered.com/blogs/university_of_venus/tips_for_fighting_writer_s_block

Communication Breakdown: What’s Words Got to Do with It?

Amanda Strickland, Consultant

Before beginning work at the University Writing Center, tutors attend a mandatory human resources orientation along with other new graduate teaching assistants. As expected, I learned about workplace issues and protocols,where to go when I need x or y, and how to react in crisis situations. One fact that I didn’t expect to learn, however, came very casually. A presenter was encouraging us to utilize face-to-face discussion in order to resolve workplace disputes, “If you can avoid it, don’t use email or text messaging. Communication is only eight percent words.”

She repeated herself to “drive home the point,” and my first reaction to her statement was situational: Yeah, you know, you miss so much in a text message. I always try to resolve issues in person. I scribbled down the statistic underneath the heading of my notes, which is mostly doodles and a few minor to-do bullets. It wasn’t until a few moments later when I was hit by the weight of the implications of this statement. I had completely agreed with her as she said this, thinking of times when text messages or notes to friends had been misconstrued. Thinking deeper, I blushed, pulling my canvas bag into my lap. I scanned the room for other dubious onlookers; each of the doe-eyed students remained completely unfazed. Unhappy with the lack of connection, I decide that the other English students must have attended earlier orientations and now the room is full of number-people and scientists.

I am beginning my professional career as a writer through graduate studies in English, and one of the first piecesof information sent my way is completely devastating to the livelihood of writers around the globe. When we sit down to write something, aren’t we trying to communicate with our readers? Does this mean that the writers of the world are 92% ineffective at communicating? Floundering, I assume that a smart-looking font can account for at least one percentile of efficiency–this gives us 9 percent.

For the next few days I descended into an obsessive search for an answer to the communication question. Of course, a quick Google search alleviated many of my worries. Many scholars argue that this statistic was a gross exaggeration of experiments which originally sought to prove the importance of body language. Nonetheless, the facts remain that messages come across more effectively when the producer and consumer of knowledge or information are in the same room, especially if they are engaging in dialogue. As authors, we are rarely in the same room as our readers. Even when we turn in papers to our peers or teachers, we will not be there to defend or explicate our work to increase the efficiency of communication.

These concerns led me to two valuable conclusions. Written word is, after all is said and done, sacred. It cannot fly away or deny its locality. Because of this permanence, authors are likely to ponder, edit, revise, delete and start over until all of the words are in their right place. In writing, it is possible to evaluate what is left out against what is included. Poets spend years debating line breaks and lovers spend hours on end writing letters.

In contrast, spoken word is ephemeral. It can’t be shared with friends in certainty; it relies on the undeniably untrustworthy memory. It’s rash and abrasive; it doesn’t hold the capacity to self-edit.

The element of reflection in writing allows an author to communicate with such precise specificity that the 92% margin for error is nearly obsolete. The written word gives the audience an opportunity to invoke imagination and creative interpretation within the bounds of a writer’s specificity. Why else do great orators write their speeches before stepping in front of an audience? Albeit, such profound writing is a challenge, but it is something that we write, converse and read about everyday through our formal and informal studies and our work.

The way I see it, this statistic is a friendly reminder to be a more conscientious writer, which I would like to extend as a challenge. Fellow writers, word on the street has it that we are drowning in the pool of efficiency rankings. Considering that it is no longer important but necessary let’s make every word count–I know how much we all hate to be misunderstood 😉

The Process

Lizzy Carraway

We all have different methods for producing writing. I use the word “producing” because writing involves many tasks, roles, phases, and, arguably, people. I used to consider my writing to be a solitary endeavor. I would torture myself trying to find inspiration and, after finding it, obsess over producing something “good”. I had this vision of the genius writer, alone in a dark study laboring away until the piece of writing is finished and handed over to the world as a golden nugget of truth. Here I will hazard to say that for most writers, the writing process is nothing like this. The majority of us thrive on feedback, to shape our work and to allow it to reach its highest potential. I’ve found this to be true for myself, for the clients I work with at the writing center, and for fellow graduate students and teachers. While we all have various approaches to the writing process itself, the one constant I’ve found is this: writing is a social act.

Most of us start with a brainstorming or prewriting phase, in which we take on a creative role and generate ideas. My prewriting phase can last anywhere from a few days to a few weeks and involves many conversations with friends, professors, fellow students and writing center consultants. Usually it begins with, “Is this idea crazy?” and I’m consistently amazed when I’m told that it’s not. I find that many of my clients at the writing center similarly question the validity of their ideas. We need people around us to engage with our thoughts and give us their input. Sometimes, we simply need people to listen while we voice a new idea for the first time to see how it sounds. Occasionally, after a session at the writing center, I realize that most of what I’ve done is listen. Yet these sessions are very valuable, because the writer can actually see the imaginary reader who is always present as we write. By actually speaking to our reader, we can learn immensely about the way our ideas are received.

For some, the next phase of the writing process is some sort of outlining or note-taking. This is when a writer decides which moves to make in a piece of writing. Generally, for me, this is the phase when I like to mark up my books and scribble furiously as my ideas take form on the page. Others are more methodical and organized. I have one client who uses a complicated color coding system to organize her notes. On the other side of the spectrum, a fellow consultant of mine free-writes to allow her ideas to progress, a process she jokingly calls “word vomit”. This can be very useful because it allows the writer to think on paper without concerns over organization or style. In any case, involving another person in this planning phase can really help a writer prevent major revisions later.

Finally, there is the drafting, revising, and editing of a paper. These acts seem to exist on a continuum at the end of the writing process. After all, many of us edit and revise as we write and, likewise, add new material during revision and editing. What makes drafting, revising, and editing inherently social is the basic fact that no one can completely intuit how their writing will be received. I might think that something I’ve written makes perfect sense, but my reader’s furrowed brow tells me a different story. This is why every piece of writing that I’m proud of has gone through at least one rough draft that I’ve revised after receiving feedback. Similarly, my clients at the writing center report significant improvement in their grades and in their own perceptions of their writing after bringing a draft to the writing center. Whether the person reading through a draft is a writing center consultant, a professor, or a friend, the feedback seems to greatly improve the clarity and often the persuasiveness of a piece of writing.

The bottom line is that without the response of a reader, writers are at the mercy of their own imaginations. While some experienced writers may be very good at intuiting their invisible audience, no one can claim total clairvoyance. At the root of the writing process is something deeply collaborative because, ultimately, we write to communicate. I’ve found in my experience as a consultant at the writing center—and as a writer myself—that the only real cure for writer’s block is simply to find another human being.