I could tell you that
writing comes easy. I could tell you that creativity flows through me. I could
tell you that I’ve always enjoyed writing. If any of those words were shoot
through my windpipes and escape through my teeth— well, I would be lying. To be
honest, writing has never come easy for me, and I it never does.
Yes, I do believe I can write. Now, when I say “write” I really
mean the term “loosely write”. What that means is when you read any work of
mine, please don’t expect to reach some sort of enlightened state of mind or
some crap like that. My writing is usually just some sort reflection of the
mood I am currently feeling, just changed in terms of a certain prompt. See
right now you’re catching sassy Ethan, but in a few minutes you might get angry
Ethan, depending on whether or not I have math homework to do. Let me introduce
another annoyance of mine— it is a huge misconception that I am some sort of
writing god to my friends just because I’m in the Writing Center. Ok sure, I am
above average when it comes to editing essays, and I have developed a knack for
tutoring people. But I need to make this clear: I am still a normal writer! The
only thing that differs me from most people is that I’m not afraid to scribble
down what I think onto paper, and in the end that’s what counts.
Whenever I do write, I write for myself. Now I’m not one of those
people who only writes to express themselves, but really just for my own
entertainment. I find it very satisfying to be able to create something original
and to later read and laugh at what I wrote. I’m not one of the those people
who “writes the pain away” or writes to put the thoughts onto paper, it’s just
not my style. I mean sure, if it’s an assignment like Spoken Word that happens
to cross the idea of writing out my feelings then why not, but you won’t catch
me at my house writing elaborate stories that have some inner motif connected
to my self thought. To be honest, you’ll probably find me napping. In reality,
if I have some sort of deep emotion in my mind, I either lay or sit there for a
while just thinking about how sucky it is and not doing anything about it. I
guess that’s unhealthy but whatever. Pizza is also unhealthy, but has that ever
stopped anyone?
I guess this is the part where I talk about my one writing
moment—just give me a second to find my timeline. God, this backpack is full of
papers. Ah there it is, buried under food wrappers and failed paper airplanes.
Let’s see what this says… ah, ok! So Spoken Word. What is it? To be honest, I never
really figured that out either, but let’s just pretend that I did. Spoken Word
is basically like performance art except with words, focusing on clever
wordplay with tone and emotion. I definitely did not have to google the
definition. It’s an assignment that I have done the last two years in my
Writing Center class and hopefully will do again this year. Now, I know this
may be a little hard to believe, but I am actually going to get a bit serious
here. Spoken Word is a sacred part of the Writing Center because you are
basically exposing yourself to your classmates and letting them know your
deepest insecurities, fears, and who you are as a person. In simple terms, it’s
raw. Not like WWE Raw (dammit I was supposed to be serious!), but you get the
point.Ugh, scratch that last part. Here’s the point I was going to make about
Spoken Word before I got sidetracked: it fundamentally changed who I was as a
writer. Let me explain why.
I was writing the piece the night before (clutch, right?), and
though I was cranking out draft after draft, I couldn’t find a version that I
liked. One was too serious, another too jokey, one was just really weird— man,
what was I thinking? I probably had written twenty different openings to my
Spoken Word until I just wanted to give up. I was fed up with the trial and
error, and concluded that it would be better to turn in mediocre work than
nothing at all. However, at the verge of calling it quits, I decided to give it
one last try— except this time with no backspace. No, I actually didn’t pry the
backspace off my keyboard, but as long as I didn’t butcher the spelling of a
word I kept my index finger away from that key. No matter what I wrote, I just
kept on writing, no matter how good or bad (mostly bad) it went. Somehow,
someway, probably thanks to Jesus, it actually worked. I had something written
down that had the potential to be something great. After some major tweaking,
rhyme scheme fixing, and syllable counting, I clicked the save button for the
last time and sat back with pride. I finished. I finished the unfinishable. I
had learned that night that I didn’t need to write something amazing the first
time around. All I needed to do was trust myself and my capabilities and to let
go of all the doubts I had about myself. And, ever since that night, I have
been a different writer.
I would be lying to you if I told you I liked writing. I do not
like it.... I love it. Although I have discovered who I am as a writer, there
is still an infinite amount more to be written. And to be honest, that’s the
hard part—there is no exact formula on how to write. Every time I write I do
something different; I use a new word or perhaps a different format. To tell
you the truth, there is no recipe to writing. There are no dos and don’ts, no
right and wrongs— there is only you. I have learned that you yourself are the
writer, the thinker, the most creative and intelligent individual in this room
right now whether you believe it or not. I learned that we all have the
potential to change the world with our words, and all you have to do is have a
pen full of ink and an open mind. So write, write until your hands hurts, until
the word limit has been reached, until the lead is all gone from your pencil.
And then, only after doing so, write some more.
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