More than a decade ago, I joined the Gateway Writing Project. It's the St. Louis site--part of the National Writing Project--and teaches teachers to become confident writers and teaches them how to teach writing. It was a life-changing summer.
One of the things we did (and it still amazes me) was an activity that required us to slip into the skin of a writer and write like them. (This brilliance was delivered by Dr. Jane Zeni.) Some teachers were given a Kurt Vonnegut passage. Some were given a Jane Austen passage. I don't remember the other authors that were included. I only know it made each of us closely examine an author's style. The rhythm of their writing. The way they use punctuation. Their word choice.
After we felt we were familiar with our author's style, we were asked to insert three different sentences into the passage, and if we matched their style well, it would appear as if it were a single, seamless piece. Of course, we hoped that the other educators would not be able to sniff out the impostor insertions.
If you could write like anyone, who would it be, and why?
The Pyrenees---Southern France
Showing posts with label Gateway Writing Project. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gateway Writing Project. Show all posts
Monday, May 18, 2015
Friday, August 2, 2013
Writing...It's a Sticky Thing
I just finished leading a two-day workshop for teachers (from two schools) in my school district. It was exhausting rewarding and fun.
The workshop centered on teaching writing in math, science and social studies. The new Common Core Standards will officially begin in our state in the 2014-2015 school year. The Common Core will replace the state tests for most of the country and will signal the demise--at the end of this school year--of theidiotic unrealistic too-tough current MAP test, which is what Missouri students and teachers have had to endure use as far as assessment for too many years.
Hey! Writing should not be done only from 11:00-11:20 anymore. That's was our theme song for the past two days.
Writing is stickier than math (there's always a correct answer and a set way of finding the answer in math). It's more elusive than science or social studies, too. Knowing how to nurture a student's creativity, and figuring out how to teach students to loosen the reins on their writing voice...that's something that often flummoxes teachers.
The mind-boggling thing about this workshop was how many talented voices emerged. This workshop was underwritten by the Gateway Writing Project, a National Writing Project site, and writing is always a part of every workshop/meeting/national conference--it's never pure lecture with passive participants with the NWP. Over the past two days, teachers wrote "I am from" poems and memoir vignettes and a variety of other pieces. The talent and distinctness of their voices was amazing. Often, teachers are sometimes reluctant to share their personal writing, but this time, it was not the case.
If you're a writer, when did you first figure out you enjoyed writing? Or do you--like me--still find it to be a grueling, hair-pulling screamfest (at times)?
The workshop centered on teaching writing in math, science and social studies. The new Common Core Standards will officially begin in our state in the 2014-2015 school year. The Common Core will replace the state tests for most of the country and will signal the demise--at the end of this school year--of the
Hey! Writing should not be done only from 11:00-11:20 anymore. That's was our theme song for the past two days.
Writing is stickier than math (there's always a correct answer and a set way of finding the answer in math). It's more elusive than science or social studies, too. Knowing how to nurture a student's creativity, and figuring out how to teach students to loosen the reins on their writing voice...that's something that often flummoxes teachers.
The mind-boggling thing about this workshop was how many talented voices emerged. This workshop was underwritten by the Gateway Writing Project, a National Writing Project site, and writing is always a part of every workshop/meeting/national conference--it's never pure lecture with passive participants with the NWP. Over the past two days, teachers wrote "I am from" poems and memoir vignettes and a variety of other pieces. The talent and distinctness of their voices was amazing. Often, teachers are sometimes reluctant to share their personal writing, but this time, it was not the case.
 |
| a student writer... |
If you're a writer, when did you first figure out you enjoyed writing? Or do you--like me--still find it to be a grueling, hair-pulling screamfest (at times)?
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
No Grape Stomping or Candy Factory
No, I never had a job stomping grapes, nor did I ever have a job in a candy factory--that would have been the perfect worst job for me--but I did feel like I was a reincarnation of Lucille Ball at times...And thinking about my past employment was inspired by Linda O'Connell and a post she did about the work she's done.
For instance, my first job was at Dairy Queen. I was 15. I never could do that little curlicue at the top of the cone perfectly, but I was able to perfect mistakes...edible mistakes.
"Oh, I'm sorry. You wanted a strawberry sundae and not a hot fudge sundae? Just a minute, I'll get rid of this hot fudge one and make you a strawberry one," and then I'd scuttle off to the walk-in freezer with the hot fudge-ice cream creation, so I could eat it later. (We were allowed to eat our mistakes, but I don't think we were supposed to deliberately make them. Every day.)
I worked a summer for the Youth Conservation Corps on an all-girl crew when I was 17, stringing barbed wire and digging post holes by hand. Once the caretaker killed a rattlesnake in the middle of the night as he walked some of us to the latrine (he hacked it to death with a shovel) , and told us, "Its mate will come looking for it." (I'm sure he was trying to scare us to get back at some of the stupid girls who flushed things down the toilet they were not supposed to flush.)
My first job out of high school was at a factory. I ran a machine that put together medicine capsules. The place stunk. If I pulled the two parts of the press together with too much force, the capsules would end up with poked-in spots, and they would have to discarded. There were many times I'd have to dump a whole tray of the capsules into the trashcan. That job only lasted a couple of weeks. (I ended up getting my finger caught in the press and cutting off the tip. After a trip to the emergency room, and making a mess of their press, they thought it was time for me to retire from that field.)
One of myfavorite strangest jobs was selling door-to-door pre-arranged funerals. That, too, was a short-lived job. I could charm my way into the houses, but I couldn't sell a single casket.
Interspersed here and there were waitressing jobs. I worked at some fairly-nice places (Steak and Ale, and Victoria Station) along with Denny's, but I was a gawk. Once, I spilled an entire Bloody Mary on a businessman there at Steak and Ale for a business lunch. (No tip for me that time!)
I've been a teacher since 1991, a teacher-consultant for the National Writing Project since 2001, and am now a freelance writer. In fact, I just heard this past weekend that a story of mine has made the first cut for the Not Your Mother's Book...On Family. (They're still looking at stories, as the deadline has not happened yet, and my story could be booted off before it hits the presses. But I'm keeping my fingers crossed.)
What important things have you learned while on your jobs? What was your favorite job or your most unfavorite job (and why)? Come on...take a trip down memory lane, and take us along with you.
For instance, my first job was at Dairy Queen. I was 15. I never could do that little curlicue at the top of the cone perfectly, but I was able to perfect mistakes...edible mistakes.
"Oh, I'm sorry. You wanted a strawberry sundae and not a hot fudge sundae? Just a minute, I'll get rid of this hot fudge one and make you a strawberry one," and then I'd scuttle off to the walk-in freezer with the hot fudge-ice cream creation, so I could eat it later. (We were allowed to eat our mistakes, but I don't think we were supposed to deliberately make them. Every day.)
I worked a summer for the Youth Conservation Corps on an all-girl crew when I was 17, stringing barbed wire and digging post holes by hand. Once the caretaker killed a rattlesnake in the middle of the night as he walked some of us to the latrine (he hacked it to death with a shovel) , and told us, "Its mate will come looking for it." (I'm sure he was trying to scare us to get back at some of the stupid girls who flushed things down the toilet they were not supposed to flush.)
My first job out of high school was at a factory. I ran a machine that put together medicine capsules. The place stunk. If I pulled the two parts of the press together with too much force, the capsules would end up with poked-in spots, and they would have to discarded. There were many times I'd have to dump a whole tray of the capsules into the trashcan. That job only lasted a couple of weeks. (I ended up getting my finger caught in the press and cutting off the tip. After a trip to the emergency room, and making a mess of their press, they thought it was time for me to retire from that field.)
One of my
Interspersed here and there were waitressing jobs. I worked at some fairly-nice places (Steak and Ale, and Victoria Station) along with Denny's, but I was a gawk. Once, I spilled an entire Bloody Mary on a businessman there at Steak and Ale for a business lunch. (No tip for me that time!)
I've been a teacher since 1991, a teacher-consultant for the National Writing Project since 2001, and am now a freelance writer. In fact, I just heard this past weekend that a story of mine has made the first cut for the Not Your Mother's Book...On Family. (They're still looking at stories, as the deadline has not happened yet, and my story could be booted off before it hits the presses. But I'm keeping my fingers crossed.)
What important things have you learned while on your jobs? What was your favorite job or your most unfavorite job (and why)? Come on...take a trip down memory lane, and take us along with you.
Friday, October 19, 2012
Like the Layers of an Onion, So Are the Facets of Our Lives
Yesterday I led some middle school students in a session at a writing workshop. Each young writer got a small mirror tile. I spoke about the layers of an onion--the outer crackly-paper skin, so delicate and thin. Then I dug into the onion with my fingernails as we discussed how we are like the onion...we have an outer, fragile layer which covers layer after layer. Some of those layers are so private, no one sees them. Others we share with our family, our friends, our loved ones.
The students used the mirror tiles to look at parts of their faces. They were instructed to imagine...If someone saw them walking down the street, and saw their eyes, their mouth, their nose, their hair...what judgements would they make? What kind of labels would they come up with?
We discussed teenagers, and the stereotypes teens are burdened with. We discussed football players, African Anmericans (especially African American males), students from expensive private schools and the erroneous conclusions people jump to when they encounter them---we had them all in our community of writers.
The students then wrote--prose or poetry--about the surface them compared to the real person underneath the surface. Some of them began with "People think I'm....but really, I'm...." One writer created an interesting "checklist," with checkmarks in the boxes of things she really was, and Xs in the boxes of things that people thought about her but were incorrect. We then shared our pieces (some of us) and I put in a plug for NaNoWriMo.
Two of the writers had earned an a field trip to an amusement park for the same day--due to being on the Honor Roll--but chose writing instead. How cool was that?
Here is what I wrote as we all sat and created together:
You see someone fat, frumpy...
But deep down inside,
I'm really a skydiving,
Breaking Bad-watching woman.
You judge me,
calling me old,
calling me out of touch.
But under the surface
is a tattooed semi-radical,
a Sons of Anarchy fanatic
left behind from the 60's.
You envision me as slow-moving,
lethargic--part of the primordial ooze
I perhaps rose up from?
But try to tred on my passion,
try to smother my fire...
and you'll see.
What do people think when they see you? When strangers see you on the street, when someone hears you read your writing out loud but has never met you, what impressions do they form? What kind of "mask" do you wear, and what lies under the surface?
Come on--share. It's safe. We're all writers 'round here...
 |
| photo by faygate |
We discussed teenagers, and the stereotypes teens are burdened with. We discussed football players, African Anmericans (especially African American males), students from expensive private schools and the erroneous conclusions people jump to when they encounter them---we had them all in our community of writers.
The students then wrote--prose or poetry--about the surface them compared to the real person underneath the surface. Some of them began with "People think I'm....but really, I'm...." One writer created an interesting "checklist," with checkmarks in the boxes of things she really was, and Xs in the boxes of things that people thought about her but were incorrect. We then shared our pieces (some of us) and I put in a plug for NaNoWriMo.
Two of the writers had earned an a field trip to an amusement park for the same day--due to being on the Honor Roll--but chose writing instead. How cool was that?
Here is what I wrote as we all sat and created together:
You see someone fat, frumpy...
But deep down inside,
I'm really a skydiving,
Breaking Bad-watching woman.
You judge me,
calling me old,
calling me out of touch.
But under the surface
is a tattooed semi-radical,
a Sons of Anarchy fanatic
left behind from the 60's.
You envision me as slow-moving,
lethargic--part of the primordial ooze
I perhaps rose up from?
But try to tred on my passion,
try to smother my fire...
and you'll see.
What do people think when they see you? When strangers see you on the street, when someone hears you read your writing out loud but has never met you, what impressions do they form? What kind of "mask" do you wear, and what lies under the surface?
Come on--share. It's safe. We're all writers 'round here...
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Metaphorically Speaking---If You're Not a Teacher, This Post Will Cure Insomnia
Earlier this week I did a workshop for Gateway Writing Project's writing festival for 3rd-5th graders. There were kids and (yikes!) teachers in the two sessions I facilitated.
In the fast fifty minutes we had together, we worked on extended metaphors. This is what happened:
1. I had numerous objects scattered around the room on tables. A hair dryer, a dream catcher, a shiny rock, a treasure box, a rusty hammer, an old paintbrush, a shiny new wrench, an empty picture frame, an over-ripe banana, a branch from a tree that was torn down by the tornado, some bubble wrap...(you get the idea)
2. We began by talking about what a metaphor was. While we were in the midst of the discussion, I was (idly? nervously?) shaking up a can of soda.
4. We brainstormed adjectives and vivid verbs and I jotted them down in lightning-fast fashion (or as lightning-fast as my menopausal brain allows).
blow up
erupting
6. I then created a metaphor on the spot, something like, "I am a shook-up can of soda. When I get excited and bubble over with enthusiasm, things get messy because I get off track; all I think about is what I'm into at that single moment. There are other times, however, when I explode in anger. My rage spews and sprays everywhere...No one is safe when they're around me when I blow up..." (I wrote the metaphor under the "me" heading.)
7. The students had post-its (okay, I did not have a chance to snag some post-its from my school, so I used a small memo pad and just gave each participant a handful of sheets) and they went around and jotted down verbs and adjectives for the objects scattered around the room. (After all, writers are thieves. We "steal" ideas from each other. Also, writing should not be done in a vacuum. We need fellow writers to bounce ideas around.) They left the notations with the objects, so everyone/anyone could refer to them.
8. The students then chose one of the objects to write an extended metaphor. They jotted down the notes that went along with that object, so they could plug them into their metaphor. They could compare the object to themself, they could compare it to a friend/relative or they could use the metaphor to paint a picture of a fictional character.
If you're a teacher, try this activity out. It helps kids connect to metaphors if they have something concrete to work with. And if you have any suggestions to improve it, or have a figurative language activity that you'd like to share, please do. (Teachers like to steal as well!)
 |
| photo by MR38 |
In the fast fifty minutes we had together, we worked on extended metaphors. This is what happened:
1. I had numerous objects scattered around the room on tables. A hair dryer, a dream catcher, a shiny rock, a treasure box, a rusty hammer, an old paintbrush, a shiny new wrench, an empty picture frame, an over-ripe banana, a branch from a tree that was torn down by the tornado, some bubble wrap...(you get the idea)
2. We began by talking about what a metaphor was. While we were in the midst of the discussion, I was (idly? nervously?) shaking up a can of soda.
3. I then (of course, since it's a messy way to make a point) popped open the can.
4. We brainstormed adjectives and vivid verbs and I jotted them down in lightning-fast fashion (or as lightning-fast as my menopausal brain allows).
me a shook-up can of soda
fizzy
bubbling
messyblow up
erupting
volcano
explode
spewing5. I then thought out loud, and said I had to make some choices. All the contributions were great, but I thought some would be better suited than others for what we were going to do. For example, I loved "fizzy" but I couldn't figure out how to use it when describing myself (unless we went back to my Bozo-the-Clown perm phase, when my hair was fizzy-frizzy...I didn't share this, as I didn't want to frighten anyone away. And visions of me with a perm did terrify people!). I circled the words/phrases I intended on using.
6. I then created a metaphor on the spot, something like, "I am a shook-up can of soda. When I get excited and bubble over with enthusiasm, things get messy because I get off track; all I think about is what I'm into at that single moment. There are other times, however, when I explode in anger. My rage spews and sprays everywhere...No one is safe when they're around me when I blow up..." (I wrote the metaphor under the "me" heading.)
7. The students had post-its (okay, I did not have a chance to snag some post-its from my school, so I used a small memo pad and just gave each participant a handful of sheets) and they went around and jotted down verbs and adjectives for the objects scattered around the room. (After all, writers are thieves. We "steal" ideas from each other. Also, writing should not be done in a vacuum. We need fellow writers to bounce ideas around.) They left the notations with the objects, so everyone/anyone could refer to them.
8. The students then chose one of the objects to write an extended metaphor. They jotted down the notes that went along with that object, so they could plug them into their metaphor. They could compare the object to themself, they could compare it to a friend/relative or they could use the metaphor to paint a picture of a fictional character.
If you're a teacher, try this activity out. It helps kids connect to metaphors if they have something concrete to work with. And if you have any suggestions to improve it, or have a figurative language activity that you'd like to share, please do. (Teachers like to steal as well!)
 |
| photo by citygirlny10305 |
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Windows...A Barrier or an Invitation?
A Gateway Writing Project teacher consultant friend, a member of the Saturday Writers group, and a fellow blogger, Barbara can look at the most mundane thing and come up with an introspective, thought-provoking post.
Check out her post on windows. Think about what windows say about us...Some windows are covered with a kid's fleece blanket. Some have no shades or curtains. Did you ever notice that when you look into a home's windows at night, when the lights are on, everything looks cozy and Hallmark-y?
Barbara's blog is one to check out. (Her observations about windows was posted on September 13, 2010.)
Check out her post on windows. Think about what windows say about us...Some windows are covered with a kid's fleece blanket. Some have no shades or curtains. Did you ever notice that when you look into a home's windows at night, when the lights are on, everything looks cozy and Hallmark-y?
 |
| An unusual stained glass window---due to it being a "Roman" cross (resembling an "X") This photo was taken by me during my trip to France in the summer of 2009. (I was searching for Johnny Depp, to no avail...I guess I will become a stalker at a later date.) |
Barbara's blog is one to check out. (Her observations about windows was posted on September 13, 2010.)
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Here Comes the Brinks Truck...And It's Loaded With Staples
Just when you think you are having a tough time, you hear from someone who has it worse...
This weekend I went to a Gateway Writing Project retreat. Gateway is part of the National Writing Project. If you're a teacher---whether it is PE or Science or Social Studies, and no matter what level---you should check out the closest National Writing Project site. (They're all over the country.) It is all about teachers teaching teachers, as they work to help their students develop into better thinkers.
I was feeling overwhelmed. Rushing out of work on Friday afternoon (just dumping piles of papers into a huge tub---my Tub O' Fun, I fondly call it---so I could grade them later in the weekend so I could prepare mid-quarter progress reports at an even later hour), my friend and I drove to the retreat. My friend needed coffee. I needed chocolate. We both needed sleep.
Not wanting to whine (there was no cheese and crackers to go along with it), I would reply, "They're going," when colleagues asked, "How are things going?" However, I soon realized how fortunate I am, at least in a small way.
One of the teachers read a hilarious piece (funny in a black, bleak way). She was miffed because one of her dry erase markers had been stolen. Not a big deal, she could just request another one to replace it. Except that she had just gotten the marker from the school's office manager, who said there were only 4 more left, and they had to last the rest of the school year. Were all the teachers in the school---20 or 30 or 40 or whatever---going to knife each other to get one of those markers?
This same teacher, when she needs staples, does not get a whole box of staples. Instead, she gets a "sleeve" of staples. Packaged up nice and neat in an envelope (probably so her colleagues do not see what she's holding as she walks down the hall--if they saw she had some staples, she might get mugged!)
When you see a Brinks truck barreling down the street, don't assume it's carrying money. It might be loaded up with dry erase markers and staples...
This weekend I went to a Gateway Writing Project retreat. Gateway is part of the National Writing Project. If you're a teacher---whether it is PE or Science or Social Studies, and no matter what level---you should check out the closest National Writing Project site. (They're all over the country.) It is all about teachers teaching teachers, as they work to help their students develop into better thinkers.
I was feeling overwhelmed. Rushing out of work on Friday afternoon (just dumping piles of papers into a huge tub---my Tub O' Fun, I fondly call it---so I could grade them later in the weekend so I could prepare mid-quarter progress reports at an even later hour), my friend and I drove to the retreat. My friend needed coffee. I needed chocolate. We both needed sleep.
Not wanting to whine (there was no cheese and crackers to go along with it), I would reply, "They're going," when colleagues asked, "How are things going?" However, I soon realized how fortunate I am, at least in a small way.
One of the teachers read a hilarious piece (funny in a black, bleak way). She was miffed because one of her dry erase markers had been stolen. Not a big deal, she could just request another one to replace it. Except that she had just gotten the marker from the school's office manager, who said there were only 4 more left, and they had to last the rest of the school year. Were all the teachers in the school---20 or 30 or 40 or whatever---going to knife each other to get one of those markers?
This same teacher, when she needs staples, does not get a whole box of staples. Instead, she gets a "sleeve" of staples. Packaged up nice and neat in an envelope (probably so her colleagues do not see what she's holding as she walks down the hall--if they saw she had some staples, she might get mugged!)
 |
| photo by grace_tee |
When you see a Brinks truck barreling down the street, don't assume it's carrying money. It might be loaded up with dry erase markers and staples...
Monday, July 26, 2010
Re-Energized by Passionate Colleagues
I was in a meeting with Gateway Writing Project members this evening. (Check out the nearest National Writing Project site for a life-changing experience.) We are planning our 3rd annual youth writing festival.
Yes, we're all busy. Yes, we're still on summer break. But also yes, we are all committed and passionate about the young writers we teach. My friend said it best: We make time for what matters to us...
Collaborating with colleagues who get jazzed about the same things you do re-energizes you. There are too many teachers who use the excuse, "I'm too busy...I don't have the time," and certainly as educators, our plates get more full every year.
But, if it really matters, we will make time for it.
Yes, we're all busy. Yes, we're still on summer break. But also yes, we are all committed and passionate about the young writers we teach. My friend said it best: We make time for what matters to us...
Collaborating with colleagues who get jazzed about the same things you do re-energizes you. There are too many teachers who use the excuse, "I'm too busy...I don't have the time," and certainly as educators, our plates get more full every year.
But, if it really matters, we will make time for it.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
John Reynolds Gardiner---A God
When you get to personally meet an author of one of your favorite books, it's like you're a groupie and they're Mick Jagger and you're backstage, drooling all over the place...
That's kind of what it was like when I met John Reynolds Gardiner at an IRA convention, quite a few years ago.
Gardiner is the author of Stone Fox, one of my all-time favorite books. My third and fourth graders love it, the novel brings up many issues (because the two main characters are both "right" even though they are competing against each other) and I cry every year when I read aloud the last two chapters. (I tell myself it won't happen again, but inevitably, it does.)
When I met him, I noticed he was wearing a ring with a large stone it. I felt like I was meeting the Pope, and was tempted to kiss his ring...That's how much in awe I am when it comes to his book.
During his workshop, he spoke to teachers, advising us to not discount a young writer merely because they make frequent spelling and grammatical mistakes. He admitted that in his slim novel, he had made 138 errors that had to be cleaned up by editors.
Great stories can be written down, and after celebrating and praising the plot, the characterization, the quirky phrases, then the editing and revising can happen. Great writers might be poor spellers. They might confuse their tenses. But let their creativity shine through. Don't squash their spirit by focusing in on just the deficits...
That's kind of what it was like when I met John Reynolds Gardiner at an IRA convention, quite a few years ago.
Gardiner is the author of Stone Fox, one of my all-time favorite books. My third and fourth graders love it, the novel brings up many issues (because the two main characters are both "right" even though they are competing against each other) and I cry every year when I read aloud the last two chapters. (I tell myself it won't happen again, but inevitably, it does.)
When I met him, I noticed he was wearing a ring with a large stone it. I felt like I was meeting the Pope, and was tempted to kiss his ring...That's how much in awe I am when it comes to his book.
During his workshop, he spoke to teachers, advising us to not discount a young writer merely because they make frequent spelling and grammatical mistakes. He admitted that in his slim novel, he had made 138 errors that had to be cleaned up by editors.
Great stories can be written down, and after celebrating and praising the plot, the characterization, the quirky phrases, then the editing and revising can happen. Great writers might be poor spellers. They might confuse their tenses. But let their creativity shine through. Don't squash their spirit by focusing in on just the deficits...
Monday, July 12, 2010
You Know More Than You Think You Know...
Writers will hit an impasse, and then the flow of words slows down and then...stops. Putting words down on paper is always more effective when you have a friend or colleague to share your thoughts and plans with. After all, we write for an audience, not so our words can be read by ourselves, in a dark closet. However, sometimes you don't have anyone around to give you feedback.
Try this: Imagine a critical person that you know. Pick someone who does not like your writing. Imagine they are there, with one eyebrow raised in doubt. And imagine they are listening to you describe your writing piece as they sit in their pajamas...
Write a letter to this critic. Tell them about the piece, describe your obstacles and well as the strengths, and outline what direction the piece is going to take.
I did this activity as part of Gateway Writing Project's summer institute. I scoffed at it. I thought it was a ridiculous strategy; I was sure I did not know more than I thought I knew. But I was wrong. Writing about it, as I envisioned an overly critical person, gave me some new ideas and some new insight.
Try it. And I would love to hear what your secret is when battling writer's block. Send it my way! (The music idea I'm sending you is marvelous music to write by. It's also great driving music. I got it because the title of the CD is The Phenomenal Ruthie Foster, and I was interested in if, indeed, this singer was phenomenal. She is.)
Try this: Imagine a critical person that you know. Pick someone who does not like your writing. Imagine they are there, with one eyebrow raised in doubt. And imagine they are listening to you describe your writing piece as they sit in their pajamas...
Write a letter to this critic. Tell them about the piece, describe your obstacles and well as the strengths, and outline what direction the piece is going to take.
I did this activity as part of Gateway Writing Project's summer institute. I scoffed at it. I thought it was a ridiculous strategy; I was sure I did not know more than I thought I knew. But I was wrong. Writing about it, as I envisioned an overly critical person, gave me some new ideas and some new insight.
Try it. And I would love to hear what your secret is when battling writer's block. Send it my way! (The music idea I'm sending you is marvelous music to write by. It's also great driving music. I got it because the title of the CD is The Phenomenal Ruthie Foster, and I was interested in if, indeed, this singer was phenomenal. She is.)
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