BP3

When most people imagine writers sitting down to create a work, they might picture a dark academia setting, the smell of fresh paper and drying ink, and a steaming mug of coffee atop a mahogany desktop. But more often than not, it is a person sitting at the coffee table in a living room that hasn’t been picked up in days, complete with empty cans of energy drinks and a bottle of Vyvanse (prescribed and used responsibly), staring at a blinking cursor on the screen. After some time, the blinking cursor takes on an almost hypnotic quality, while also seeming to mock them over the fact that it hasn't budged a single space for the past hour.

Upon going into this unit, I came to realize that I have never had a solid writing plan. As a student with moderate ADHD, I often find myself cramming all my work into a very short period of time. Some days, that cram session ends up being long before the due date. Other days, I face the dread of realizing the due date is closer than I had expected and just roll with it the best I can. When our groups looked at the different types of editing and writing styles and systems yesterday, I noticed that my tactics tend to be scattered, as I take part in bits and pieces of each plan. Many times, I will word vomit onto the page, read my paper out loud until I hate it, and then make the edits that make me hate it less (hello, imposter syndrome).

A person weaving through a maze makes wrong turns, but uses that experience to figure out the path. A doctor uses every diagnosis, right and wrong, to refine her skills. When a child takes his first tentative steps and falls, we applaud the walking and cheer for him when he gets up. We never say, “Well, he’s no walker, that’s for sure.” We know—we believe—that he will not only walk, but run, climb mountains, ski the steepest slopes, dance the tango. Falling down is nothing. That’s how the tango looks early on. (Spandel 63). This tidbit stuck out to me because this would be a passage I would want my students to remember when they feel they don’t have a thorough plan, or if their writing is less than stellar. I want them to embrace the “shitty first draft” as much as they can. After all, their future teacher is still learning to do so.

P.S. My goal is to have more solid of a writing plan once I close out the semester. Plan D seemed to look good to me!