Chapter 1: The Intricacies of Writing

In my experience as a creative writing instructor, it’s not just the bold expressions that captivate me, but the subtle nuances that lie beneath the surface. It’s the unspoken emotions and the underlying narratives that truly reveal a student's inner world.

Teaching writing, or even attempting to guide someone toward crafting meaningful prose, is a task often suited for the daring, the naïve, or those blissfully unaware of the challenges involved. I’ve had my share of encounters with each of these traits, often measured by the spoonful.

While my tone may seem sarcastic, the underlying truth is that many fail to grasp the complexities of writing. For me, it sometimes feels as daunting as trying to capture a five-meter basking shark.

As memoirist Adair Lara insightfully states, "Tone is what the dog hears." This presents a significant hurdle in writing—humans lack the ability to perceive tone as acutely as dogs do. This is particularly evident when I teach my enthusiastic adolescent students, who, despite their ambition, often struggle to convey the emotions behind their words.

They might assert, "But I write from my feelings. I'm expressing my heart," when they observe my expression of indifference. It’s not that I am judging them harshly; rather, my stoic demeanor reflects the disconnect I feel when reading their work.

"You’ve given me words that stem from reason and are embellished with what you label as emotions. Yet, I feel nothing. What do you think is missing?" I find joy in challenging my students in this way. Their eagerness to engage in self-reflection is one of the most rewarding aspects of teaching.

"I’m puzzled by your intent. Be like Sherlock Holmes and uncover what’s absent," I encouraged one of my standout students, Natalie, who had written a piece about the Allied forces’ liberation of Nazi concentration camps.

She had recently viewed a documentary detailing the use of Zyklon B by the Nazis during World War II. Her essay discussed the Allies' suspicions regarding the genocide and how their offensive revealed the hidden atrocities. While I agreed with the facts, I found her storytelling approach problematic.

Her misplaced enthusiasm was evident, starting with the title and subtitle she chose:

"Off With The Bombs! How the Allied Forces Were Excited to Be Right All Along about Zyklon B!"

"Is that title a nod to 'Off with her head!' from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland?" I inquired.

"Yes, Miss Nat. I thought it would be humorous."

"Humorous seems like an odd choice. For whom exactly?" I pressed gently.

"Don’t you find it amusing?"

"My opinion matters little; it's your readers' reactions that are crucial. What emotions do you want them to feel? Should they be leaping with joy?"

"Not at all. The piece discusses the horrors of the death camps."

"Precisely. Your head doesn’t align with your body. Your tone is misaligned, creating a conflict."

"That’s not what I intended."

"What then is your aim with this piece?"

"My goal is to inform people about the Allies' awareness of the gas chambers and their partial complicity."

"It’s amusing how your explanation contrasts sharply with your title, akin to a National Geographic article styled for TMZ."

I returned her essay, and she scrutinized it closely. "You haven’t graded it, Miss."

"How can I grade something I don’t fully comprehend? My role isn't to penalize poor writing but to interrogate the writer to ensure the intended message reaches the audience."

"What should I do next?" Natalie asked, relieved to know she wasn’t in trouble.

"Think like a news anchor. Read it aloud, paying attention to punctuation. It plays a vital role in your delivery."

After several attempts, she noticed her overenthusiastic tone.

"That’s not how a death sentence is typically delivered. It should evoke gravity, not excitement." I tried to lighten the moment with humor.

Natalie laughed, feeling she had escaped the danger zone.

"Writing is akin to singing," I elaborated. "Tone is essential in languages where word meanings shift with pitch. Tone is embedded in every word; intonation alters meaning at the sentence level. When writing, your heart and mind must harmonize. The best way to gauge this is by reading aloud. Your ears will reveal whether your tone aligns with your subject matter."

She appeared engaged, as if she had struck gold during our discussion.

"I won’t grade your paper until it’s pitch-perfect," I concluded.

Natalie nodded thoughtfully and left, her expression one of curiosity rather than dismay. My relentless questioning was a necessary push for her growth. To fail her would have stifled her inquisitive spirit.

"Perhaps no topic is too challenging if individuals are willing to think, write, and read clearly. It might be time to redefine the 'three R's' as reading, 'riting, and reasoning. Together, these elements contribute to learning. Through writing about what we seek to understand, we can reason our way to clarity. Reasoning is a skill that has diminished among today’s youth, marked by a notoriously brief attention span. Writing can help reclaim it." — William Knowlton Zinsser, Writing to Learn: How to Write — And Think — Clearly about Any Subject at All

I must admit, teaching creative writing isn’t my favorite pursuit. It’s a challenge to motivate students amidst the relentless tide of digital distractions. The struggle intensifies when their lives revolve around shortcuts, hacks, and AI that dulls their focus. It often feels as if both the students and I are caught in a riptide.

Caught in a riptide, individuals may notice they are drifting away from the shore. Swimming against its power is futile. Contrary to popular belief, a riptide doesn’t pull swimmers under; rather, it carries them out of sight. Fortunately, because riptides are typically narrow, escaping requires just a few strong strokes. Once free, returning to shore is simple, as the breaking waves push everything, including swimmers, back to land. Yet, success relies heavily on mindset, determination, and willpower.

Those caught in a strong current can choose to float, allowing it to carry them until it dissipates, at which point they can swim back to shore diagonally, away from the riptide, or signal for help.

I see parallels in my teaching. I enjoy watching my writing students being swept away by their ideas, even if they diverge from the intended path. I don’t label these detours as mistakes; instead, I view them as adventures.

I refrain from throwing them a lifebuoy right away. I let them float for a while, absorbing their surroundings and basking in the sun. Writing poorly isn’t a failure; it’s a signal for redirection, a call for guidance.

After attending numerous writing workshops, I grappled with the prevailing belief that "writing is learned through imitation. The primary way to improve writing is by reading authors you admire and deciphering their techniques." I wanted my students to be original thinkers and writers, perhaps creating my own dilemma in the process.

On days when their lackluster writing frustrated me, the insight into their thought processes kept me motivated. It felt akin to a Renaissance moment.

It reminded me of nurturing plants, watching my pothos thrive and my spider plants sprout new offshoots, all thanks to my patience and care.

The essence of teaching writing, which I gradually came to appreciate while reflecting on my own methods, lies in tuning into where my students position themselves within their narratives.

"The act of writing provides teachers with a glimpse into the minds of their students." — William Zinsser, Writing to Learn: How to Write — And Think — Clearly about Any Subject at All

The following day, Natalie submitted her revised paper. I asked if she was pleased with her adjustments. She nodded, beaming. Her essay now read:

"Between the Gas Chambers and Human Debris: The Horrific Truth Allied Forces Discovered in Nazi Death Camps."

I inquired about her inspiration for the changes. She explained that she had stepped into the shoes of the Allied forces upon their arrival at the camps. She transformed from a mere spectator to an active participant, witnessing the atrocities firsthand. This shift altered her mood and perspective, enhancing her writing’s emotional depth.

From my own experiences, I understand that instructing a student on how to write—no matter how much they plead for shortcuts or easy grades—is futile. My role is to inspire them to shape their thoughts effectively. Much of the heavy lifting rests on the student, while the teacher’s duty is to expand their social and emotional awareness. This distinction can create a significant impact, opening up a vast and creative space for them to flourish as adept writers.

Chapter 2: The Power of Revision

In this insightful video, "The #1 Fix to Write Engaging Prose," viewers will learn essential techniques to enhance their writing style and connect with their audience more effectively.

The second video, "How To Better Your Prose - Simple vs Complicated Sentences," delves into the nuances of sentence structure, guiding viewers on how to create more impactful prose.