Meredith Ashton
Process Writing
21 November 2016
Process Writing
Writing
about writing is an odd thing, but I endeavor to be candid in my analysis and
response. My writing process differs depending on the type of assignment, but
it always starts with a core idea, a glimpse of an intriguing thought that
could one day possibly form a coherent paper. For reading responses, I searched
for a particular quote that grabbed my attention, and for the personal essays I
started with a memory or a scene that I
wanted to explore. From there, I created an outline to organize my thoughts
into a structure for a paper. One might think that after the outline, I’m practically
done with my piece. Alas, outlining is inevitably followed by rounds of
scathing edits until the piece is done “enough,” or at least until the next
time I look at it again.
I generally
dislike my writing when I go back and read it, even if it is only a few weeks
later. What was once golden and gleaming fades into the realm of cliché or
trivial. I do, however, enjoy the evolution and (hopeful) progression of my
writing over time. For this reason, I liked having the blog as a virtual
portfolio in which to review, revise, and reflect on the body of work that I produced
during this seminar course. In reviewing my work over the quarter, the pieces
that I like the most are those that I was most passionate in writing. These are
also the pieces to which I feel the deepest personal connection. My writing is
the strongest when I have a story to tell. The “Artisanal Delicacies” piece is
pure summary compared to my reading response exploring the idea of authenticity
in Disney World. This represents my mixed emotions about the reading responses:
the pieces I wrote for a grade are mediocre, and the pieces I wrote for
pleasure and personal exploration are more worthy of note.
By this point
in the process of writing my Process Writing piece on the process of my writing
(I couldn’t resist), I’ve scrolled all the way down to my first few blog posts.
I’m struck by the stark contrast between my first Memoir Draft and my final
essay. The rough draft is just that—rough. It is raw scene attempting to tease
out complex emotion. I love that my final Memoir piece has a clear message, an
underlying current centered around the idea of “home” that’s carried throughout
the work. The in-class workshops were immensely beneficial. Oftentimes I am so
close to the piece that it’s hard to step back and decide which bits of emotion
and personal truth I’d like to highlight and further explore.
This
is especially true in my personal essay on The Perfect Meal. My first draft
that I brought to workshop had some excellent scenes and themes buried in a
deluge of mundane details. The feedback from my peers and Professor was
essential in deciding which areas to emphasize in my final draft. The workshop
pushed me to confront the real substance of my piece, which centered around
establishing a sense of “wholeness” or “community,” instead of getting lost in
the breadth of my paper. The end result surprised me. Instead of focusing on
the details of the process that went into the physical creation of my meal, my
final draft discusses and reflects upon my true criteria for “perfection” that I
discovered as I was writing the piece itself. I wouldn’t have pushed myself to
this level of personal exploration without the guidance of the Food and Travel
Writing Course. I look forward to continuing to write and revise and explore in
my future writing-workshop classes.
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