Ninth Prompt - A Revelation in Writing Practice (05/10)

Final Reflective Essay - In Retrospect
This post was altered for the Final Reflective Essay. It was originally titled "[PROMPT 9] #39: Ninth Prompt - A Revelation in Writing Practice".

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This week's blog prompt is a doozy, so we're going to consume it step-by-step, in parts that I'll slowly reveal. Here's the prompt, without anything extra:

 

"Reflect on: How has this course shifted your understanding of (your) writing practice? What is the one thing you think you might take away from it?" 

 

Okay. Now, in what ways can I think of the term "writing practice"?

• "The forms and genres you write in;
• Your sense of what kind of writer you want to be/writing you want to do;
• How you go about putting words on the page;
• How you use feedback;
• How you generate ideas;
• How you push yourself in new directions;
• How you give yourself confidence/permission;
• How you approach nonfiction/fiction writing;
• How you use research to feed into your work;
• How you use the examples of other writers to stretch your sense of what's possible;
• Etc."
  

Intimidating, hehe. But that's why I put it into bullet points -- it's an easier way to approach these questions, in bite-sized chunks. Feel free to copy and paste this idea if you want, fellow Plague Wanderers.

 

Alright. Here's the suggested way I approach this mammoth of a task:

         

STEP 1

"Don’t launch directly into writing: instead, write a list of all the different, specific shifts and take-aways that have come to mind for you, or come to mind for you now as you stop to reflect."

 

I'd copy it all down but... I think my writing's legible enough to see on computer (I hope, anyway!). Here's the colourful version~

 

 

STEP 2

"Look at your list: highlight the five or so things on the list that are most interesting to you now.

 

(Bearing in mind that there might be some of the things on the list that you feel like you have already thought about in previous reflections, so might be less interesting to rehash unless you have a new angle on them)"

This step's easy enough. Ah. I just realised it said "five or so". Well, I went for five exactly.

• It's fun not revealing some things, leaving things unsaid. Gives characters some privacy, makes them feel more real... even if only I and a select few will know that.
• I want to do more collaborative writing with others, I want to to be a part of a lot more anthologies where I read other peoples' works.
• I'm comfortable with being a nonfiction writer -- or maybe, at least, a writer who writes nonfiction.
• It is up to me whether I implement feedback or not -- I'm not required to find the ultimate, perhaps impossible overlapping part (in a giant Venn diagram) that will satisfy everyone.
• Going for a full BS draft can be helpful -- even if you don't use it, hey, it's vent writing.
  

STEP 3
"Come up with one word to connect those various things on the list; a theme/concept/idea that seems to link them." 

Revelation.

STEP 4
"Pomodoro: write a reflective post built around that theme, and titled accordingly (and include, in the post or a separate post if you prefer, the initial brainstorm list that you made to begin with)

(You might think/write about, afterwards: did that process change what you wrote? if so, how? how could you use that technique in other circumstances?)"

There have been many revelations for me over the duration of this course. It's actually quite difficult to pick out what ultimate thing I might take away from it. I definitely feel as though I've emerged from the other side a more enlightened writer. In fact, with each course I undertake in the BA Creative Writing program, I feel significantly more knowledgeable about the subject and my writing practice. Big strides. I'm not sure if the future will be like that for me, beyond my studies when I venture out into the "real world", but I hope I continue to accumulate wisdom in small ways regularly.

The ultimate revelation I think... is... being comfortable with being a writer who writes nonfiction.

I came into this subject with a single goal in mind -- to get published. I saw that opportunity on the pamphlet and I knew I absolutely had to have it. The moment the survey went up, I was there, inputting my choice, checking over to make sure I HAD clicked the studio I wanted, and submitted.

I was basing the choices I made this year in the program from how I went in CW: Craft, last year. 82% in Nonfiction. 77% in Screen. 67% in Poetry. 60% in Fiction. I still hated Poetry, so that was definitely out. And in Nonfiction, I felt like I had written the only thing that I felt was interesting (and the most comfortable thing I could write) about me. So I chose Screenwriting and Fiction for my CW Specialisations options.

I figured that my Nonfiction essay for Plague Stories was going to be something educational, probably research about the Black Plague (since I thought that's all it could be), and with the word "I" in it to make it uh... personal? Creative? Surely that was what it meant.

In my very second blog post (first class post), I was responding to David's interview with Nicole Walker, and I responded in this... elitist, misguided way to it. It was understandable that I always associated the word "essay" with the image of an academic essay, with a very clear outline. Introduction. Contention. Sign-posting. Arguments. Evidence. Conclusion. Banger ending. Sources. It was clear I was very shaken by the idea of "letting the essay take you where it wants to go", because in academic essays, meandering leads to lost marks. I thought I was being clever once in a Year 11 essay, but it was returned to me with a sticky note the teacher forgot to remove in her cross-marking, highlighting a paragraph. It was more of a "wider discussion" based paragraph rather than an argument in the wider scale of it. I lost a few marks because of it.

Academic essays and its restrictions are comforting. Knowing the boundaries helps me know where I can and can't go. Exceeding the topic from within the boundaries is higher-level thinking.

The early drafts and first submission of this essay were segmented, controlled. Clear boundaries marking where sections stopped. Distinct separation of topics combined under one umbrella. It was formulaic. Had a little spunk in it, a little bit of me, but still, quite... rigid. I wanted to cover all my bases "just in case". Wanted to make it educational "just in case". I thought I understood what I was doing in this "creative" nonfiction essay.

"Creative" was just a little additive word in the term "nonfiction essay". Like a dismissive "Oh yeah, chuck that snack into the trolley, sure". Open it up a little for people who really cared about that stuff. I didn't understand what it meant, or what it could do for me.

The first few weeks were stressful for me. I knew that something that looked like my Final, that was (hopefully) going to be published in the book, was going to exist. But I had no idea what it was going to look like. I started to stress out. I just wanted to black out and wake up with a copy of it in front of me. Time pass without my knowledge.

But it wouldn't just exist without me. I had to build it with my own two hands.

One of the most striking pieces of advice a CW student gave at the 2019 Orientation Day was to not have a concrete plan of what genre you want to write. I was confused by how many of them "converted" (in my eyes) from Fiction to Nonfiction, like it was some kind of new religion. I thought of them as narcissists who just think their opinions and experiences are so important they had to share it with everybody else. Accounts of abuse, as someone with a probable one, weren't that stand-out when everybody was writing them, if that's what they were writing about. Otherwise, what? Reviews? I wouldn't let myself fall for that. That sentiment might seem a bit hypocritical given I've been reviewing things on my personal blog, The Explorer of Stories, but I honestly didn't think of reviews of fiction media as "nonfiction", but something along the lines of fanwork.

Of course, there have been readings in this course that I've grimaced at. Virginia Woolf's 'The Death of the Moth' is one of them. "I can't believe she profited off that," I thought. "If that's what creative nonfiction writing is all about, then man, that's so lame. I could do it." In fact, I'll even show you what I wrote down as my "summary" of the work when doing the readings one day:

That was a while ago. But I even encountered a piece like that in my recent September 25th post, discussing (or rather, dissing on quite heavily) Eliza Burke's 'A Measure of Distance'. The blog post was titled "Hot Air & Reaching".

Over the course of the past year and a bit, I'd been building up this particular image of what I thought a nonfiction writer was, and restricting myself and what I could do in the process. Making all of these imaginary excuses and rules as to why I'd "never let myself fall down that rabbit hole, become one of them". I'd grown tired of reading peoples' real life stories. I wouldn't dare contribute mine into the mix.

And yet, that's what I did, in the end.

I was self-conscious about it at first. Why should anybody care about this event that happened to me in my relationships? It wasn't about something depressingly painful, like a body or mental illness, or an account of abuse, or the story of someone who does heroic deeds. It was just about an average girl struggling with her feelings in what seemed to be a love triangle. Haven't we seen this plot everywhere before? What validates this story's existence?

I've come to realise where all of these harsh words come from. At the root of all these barriers and stereotypes and such, were my own self-doubts and insecurities. Fear that nonfiction writing wouldn't lead anywhere. It felt like you needed to have an already-established audience for anything you do or say to matter. It didn't feel like a path worth pursuing, then.

Nonfiction writing's been a lot more fun, and freeing than I thought it would be. That's the revelation I've had here. Yes, there's been struggle, pain, repeating myself over and retrying, but I'm proud of the progress I've made in this course. Honestly it's kinda like a shower, you don't want to have it until you get in there and suddenly you don't want to leave the warm water.

I'm damn proud of my work. And I'm bloody proud of all the other essays standing alongside in my anthology. We survived it through this year, and another year of our program. We have something to show for it. We made bonds with each other.

I'm so thankful for the encouragement I've received during this production. The praise, the suggestions, the feedback. It's developed confidence in my abilities as a nonfiction writer (not primarily, just as someone who WRITES nonfiction) and made me open to... y'know? Doing it again. And doing it again in the future. A lot more times.

So yeah. Looking forward to checking out what I can write to submit to publications in the future... nonfiction naturally included.

-Katie, the Plague Wanderer