I needed an outlet from the pointless assignments which inevitably turned into me writing my own short stories and blogs. Although I did not learn much about writing from this unproductive class, I learned a lot about myself. I found my passion. By the end of the year, I was ready to go into regular English, but in the back of my mind I knew I had to at least see what the next year was like. I felt as though I went through hell and back with the previous class, how much worse could the next be?
I did not like the book at first, just like any other book I was forced to read for school. But, one night I was reading and the book got so interesting for me I could not put it down. That was the first book in along time that I enjoyed reading that was assigned to me. After my junior year, I went right back to my old ways of not reading books. My senior year I took AP English, so this required a lot of books.
My mind is also very restless on many different unneeded topics before I actually figure some sort of combined way to put words on to paper for people to read. Each author put down in their articles many ways of how there minds work while figuring out what they are going to write about. Both of the authors ended ... ... middle of paper ... ...not to be missed; these are some of the same words used by George Orwell in his article. I wrote them down here in this essay because there is a total relation with them to how I would see myself as a writer and the ideas I would use. Joan Didion wrote about ideas that come to you that just shimmer.
Throughout middle school and the past two years of high school, when a teacher would announce that we had to write a research paper or an essay, the first thoughts to come to my mind are usually, “Oh no, I’m going to fail. I’m an awful writer. What am I going to do?” These fretful thoughts, more often than not, lead to my procrastination. Needles to say, I’ve adopted some bad habits when it comes to my writing process as well as a fear of writing. While I enjoy writing, I wouldn’t consider myself to be a great, or even good, writer, especially not when it comes to assigned writing.
During my high school years I wasn’t that good of a writer. I thought this composition class was going to be hard since I sometimes thought it was hard in high school. My writing experience was good and sometimes bad. This semester in the composition class I had many writing strengths and weaknesses. These strengths and weaknesses is what helped me learn the errors I was making while writing essays this semester.
I feel as though this class has helped me become a more polished and professional writer. When I first entered English 110, I was extremely unsure and lacked confidence in my writing. I believe that this point can be partly attributed to the fact that I had always had my instructors holding my hand and helping me through the writing process in high school. My senior English teacher always reminded us that college would be much more challenging than her class was and then she would go on to tell us stories of professors who gave out zeros for tiny oversights within a paper. This combined with general apprehension about college life left me terrified.
Maybe, but the death of his saviour and the hindrances of his new family all prevented him from becoming anything better. Yet we are all faced with hard circumstances and bitter hat... ... middle of paper ... ...son for writing the novel. Even though the book was written over one hundred and fifty years ago, she still had a grasp on the ways of humanity. Austen on the other hand was not quite there. She did try to make the reader see beyond the plot and characters, and most of the readers pick up on the satire, but it seemed as if there was no more to the book aside from this and critic of the Gothic.
That’s a question that has plagued me more, now than ever. Sadly, there is no spectrum to determine such a thing, only I would be privy to such information, and at this point, I’m unsure. For my last semester in college I took a Creative Writing class, and it was one of the greatest academic choices of my life, but it made me question a lot as well. From writing poetry to this last non-fiction piece I wondered if I’m was cut out for the life style of a writer. I began writing when I was young, around the time when my writing was still forming, the letters were slanting off the line, and my syntax worse than it is now.
Stepping into the class, from the first day, I was able to feel the the high expectations of my work once we were handed the scoring rubric for the writing produced in the class and I had a feeling I was unable to meet that criteria. Throughout the first two years of high school, I didn’t work much on improving my writing. Getting through the English classes were fairly easy because there was not much of a challenge for me. My teachers didn’t expect much in my assignments and homework, except completion. Therefore, I didn’t work on my own or sought for help to improve on my writing.
Although I was a growing teenager my life at one point was not all that fast paced, exciting or containing a multitude of adventures. I would constantly become bored talking to people in the present or with whatever I was doing at that time. I had begun to text people just because I could. I would have absolutely no reason to be texting a friend from school how she was doing just because I was just too lazy to find an activity or two for me. I think about my essays and wonderful English teachers because there were days in which I decided that writing the essay or reading these five chapters was a bit too hard for myself.