So I didn't really like that essay at all last week. It was one of those self-reflective types, on "What Really Matters in Life". I mean, in a five-page doublespaced essay...that's nowhere near enough room. And really, even if it was, there wouldn't be enough time to write something well that was concise and deep enough to fully cover the topic. Even Ecclesiastes would probably come to about ten-to-twenty pages if you typed it out as a Word doc(but I don't feel like trying to make sure of this point). And that's about as well-done as anything can be on that subject.
Besides, I was in a hurry, having to get it finished and printed by the next morning, and not feeling completely well from the sinus infection just yet. So I didn't have time, really, to check for mechanical errors or word choice, just a quick glance-through to make sure I had the margins set right and no awful glaring misspellings. So it was full of comma splices and there was far too many pen-ink comments on the paper than I would've liked.
We got the essays back this morning in Lit, and finally finished the "Gone Forever" poem, which was good. A slightly-more-abstract poem called "To Look at Any Thing", too. At the top of the front page was an 86, which was very accurate and fair. And a bit disappointing, too. But sometimes you just have to accept that you can't polish everything as well as you'd like before deadline. Anyway, after class I'm headed out of Seminary toward Leoser or the UC or somewhere, Prof. Semrow says, "Hey Wes! Do you have time to go over your essay?" Me, wondering what was so terrible and not feeling very hopeful, "Um, sure. Next class doesn't start til 12:30, so, yeah." "Okay, great. Come on up to my office."
It's a rather disorganized workspace, filled with papers and houseplants, with a huge window with a nice view. And interestingly enough, the office right next to it belongs to Dr. Faulds. Prof. Semrow points out all the comma splices and unintentional sentence fragments, offers some suggestions on cleaning those up. Then the part I wasn't really expecting. She points to the score. "You know that's just my opinion, right?" I nod.
"Good. Cause it's like I keep telling you all, that grade is just my opinion, like all grades are, really. Just the opinions of the teachers on what we think your effort level was, and they won't really matter in the big scheme of things. And it doesn't mean it was a bad paper, just needs some work with the mechanics. And if you have to make a grammar mistake, comma splices are about the best ones to mess up on, they don't really affect the quality very much." I nod again.
"There was something about reading yours, though....you have a talent. You sort of skip around from one thought to the next, but it's interesting; makes your audience think. Some people, you know, they go from one thought to the next and follow perfectly every grammar rule, and then you wonder, 'Why did I come here?' But when I read your essay, I enjoyed the trip, it was worth it." [She's an English professor who, probably because she is an English professor, doesn't really like reading, so that's saying something.]
"There was a few scores higher than this, but you guys who were homeschooled generally had a better structure, it was clearer to understand, than most of the others." [She's also a homeschool mom, her daughter is the same age as Courtney. Besides me, there's Shelby on my left, also homeschooled all the way, and Alyssa in the corner, homeschooled until high school.]
She mentioned something called "stream-of-consciousness writing", I'm gonna have to Google that. Supposed to be some kind of flowing together nicely logic-wise of our points or thoughts or arguments, though not necessarily in an ordinary manner. Like when you go from talking about football to flowers and you wonder, "How did that happen?" But it makes sense within the conversation's context. "I don't know where that style could have come from and how you learned to imitate it, or who you picked it up from, but it was great for reading. You just can't teach someone to write like that, it's a gift."
I'll need to Google this guy named Mel Ellis, apparently he was a good writer and I write a little like him. Wrote for a Milwaukee paper and books about nature and farm life. "You've got a lot of fragments in here...but that's not all bad. If you know how to use them correctly, they can be extremely effective. And it's like you've almost got that down....most of my students are still trying to write a basic sentence, first-graders could do better sometimes. So I wouldn't even suggest that they play around with techniques like that, but you're almost at that point where you can do it. Just needs some work. Some of them were probably by accident, but then there were others that I was like, 'Whoa...that was really good."
I wasn't expecting that sort of feedback, it was so great and unexpected. "You've mentioned before you're hoping on going into journalism, and I could pick up traces of that in your style. That'd be great if you can do that, but wherever you end up, you need to keep writing, okay? You've got something....great, that doesn't happen every day. It may not win any awards or anything, but...you'll go places. Thank you for being in my class."
Honesty is a hallmark of good writing, that's one of her main class rules. And really, to some extent, the rules of any great piece of literature, however broadly you wanted to define literature. I mean, I know a handful of comic strips that could easily enter the realm of "literature", easier than something like "The Hunger Games" or John Steinbeck....anyway, Prof. Semrow mentioned several times how much she liked how the honesty seeped into the pages. Mrs. Hollis has called it "authentic and down to earth." Occasionally other people will comment that they enjoy it, people like Steven, Mr. Gundersen or Mrs. Perry, or something Damon or Trish or somebody would say in the middle of our Idol emails. Valerie always was a fantastic editor. These types of appreciative comments are extremely encouraging, because they're so unexpected. Jason said once that my writing was "direct and stylish", Prof. Semrow that it was "very unique and inviting - calming, honest and enjoyable."
I guess that means I'm on the right track.
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