Rick Wysocki, Consultant

Recently, I was working with a client in the Writing Center who asked:

“Why does this have so many rules? I wish I could just write the way I wanted to.”

The student was talking about a specific genre of professional writing that had strict guidelines regarding language use and formatting. He was frustrated—he thought the conventions were over the top, and he didn’t enjoy writing that way.

Since then, I’ve been thinking about the rhetorical choices we make in our academic and professional lives—about the “rules” that we technically have the choice to accept or deny but which have strong institutional pressure behind them. During my session with that student, I said something along the lines of, “Well, yes, there are a lot of rules, but your audience expects you to follow them.” I’d like to expand that response, and talk a bit about how we interact with these conventions masquerading as rules.

First, it’s true that some conventions do have an incredible amount of institutional backing. If you turn in a paper to your biology instructor containing so-called “colloquial” language referring to “little molecular dudes,” you might get points taken off your essay (I’m never letting that go Mrs. Hull). On the other hand, if you write a literacy narrative for your composition course completely avoiding first person, your teacher hopefully wouldn’t lower your grade, but might ask you to rewrite it in a more personal voice. Keep in mind that these conventions don’t always come from outside—I, for example, neurotically add a references page to every document I write that cites sources, regardless of whether it’s required or asked for.

That said, the guy in my head who still loves punk music, even though he’s now a fully functioning cog in the academic, cite-your-sources-or-else machine, is still annoyed by your rules, man. Both he, and the client mentioned above, are completely justified in feeling this way. We’re told constantly that writing is about expression, and with all these conventions writing can sometimes seem like somewhat of a bummer. I’d like to offer a little advice I find helpful in dealing with these situations.

1. Know the rules. Seriously, get to know what’s expected of you in the writing contexts you’re engaged in. If you’re in your biology class there’s no shame in asking the teacher about the genre of science writing, checking the library for sources on the topic, or coming into the Writing Center for help. Even though conventions can be frustrating, you still need to learn them—especially if you’re planning on breaking them. Which leads me to—
2. Don’t break conventions for no reason. If you’re annoyed about having to go to the trouble of doing APA format and, in response, just do the whole paper in MLA, that a) doesn’t make any sense and b) deprives you of learning a new skill.
3. If you want to break rules, know why. When you’re consciously going against the conventions (that you learned in step 1), of your writing context, imagine explaining to your instructor why you did so. Better yet, go talk to your instructor about the assignment. Making your case early on let’s you at least find out what the consequences might be of, say, writing in third person instead of first. Keep in mind that your instructor may disagree with you—in that case, you have to weigh whether or not third person is worth having to rewrite your paper or getting a reduced grade.

What I’m trying to stress is the importance of breaking rules consciously, and with the appropriate information about the rules themselves. Put simply, it’s only cool to break the rules if you know you’re doing it. So learn those generic conventions. If you need help, the Writing Center’s here for you.

Daniel Ernst, Consultant

If someone were to ask me what I do, I’m not really sure what I would say. I could provide nominal answers—I “help students with their writing,” or I “tutor”—but these fail to capture my full experience at the Writing Center. As I think back on all the conferences I’ve had with students, it’s hard to pin down with any precision one thing I can point to and say “that! That’s what I do.” And that’s just how writing is; it’s idiosyncratic, personal, complex, weird, and procedural, and our job as consultants is to meet with students at any stage of this weird process of any type of writing. So this imprecision is expected (and even welcomed).

But, there is at least one thing that happens at every conference: we talk. Now, let’s wax philosophical about this fact. It seems obvious and like sort of a letdown, right? “Of course you talk; it’s a conference.” However, I am increasingly convinced that this action of “talking about assignments” cannot be emphasized enough. And as I think back on my conferences, it becomes clear that meeting one-on-one with students to “talk” about assignments it not simply one of many components of consulting on writing; rather, the one-on-one talk is the realm in which all the other components of writing instruction take place. Conversation is the medium, the form, through which any kind of instruction or advice or conference works. So what? What does all this mean? To make it more concrete, here are three reasons why I think talking about your writing is hugely beneficial:

1. It will clean your intellectual house. Assignments are hard. Not only are they designed to prompt a synthesis of your knowledge on a subject, but also they sometimes contain confusing vocabulary. For instance, what does it mean to analyze, compare and contrast, or construct an argumentative, thesis-driven analysis? After all, these things don’t always mean the same thing to everyone. One of the best things to do when facing a complex writing prompt is to spitball, to just talk and think out loud, and it’s especially helpful when you do it with someone else. An audience, even one consisting of a single writing consultant, can provide valuable feedback or counter points to help hone your ideas. You can talk out those minor issues like “what does a reflective paper do?” and move onto seriously crafting your ideas.
2. You’ll use language in new ways. It’s easy to forget that writing is just one type of language use—we also talk and think using language. Each medium—speech, writing, and thought—uses language in special, conventionalized ways. But I would argue that, of the three, writing depends the most on the other two. Obviously, we must engage in critical and intense thought when writing, but we should also talk about these thoughts both before and during the writing process. Have you ever tried to explain something orally that you have written? Undoubtedly you changed the language in some way, and that’s because the two media operate differently within language. Encountering multiple language mechanisms is instructive; it will allow you to see your topic from new perspectives and challenge you to write more clearly and effectively.
3. Your ideas get a test run. I don’t know about you, but my ideas always sound a lot better in my head than when I voice them or write them down. Talking through your ideas with a consultant gives you the chance for a dry run with an audience. The sharing of ideas is my favorite part
   of the job, but it also reflects important and foundational academic principles. Sharing, debating, and challenging ideas and knowledge is truly what education is about. Talking through your ideas with someone will automatically make you not only a stronger writer but also a stronger thinker.

So, for your next assignment, come to the Writing Center and let’s talk.