Write a profile of yourself as a writer? Well, that’s an interesting topic for a blog. I believe that when one reads what it is that someone else wrote they will be able to judge exactly what kind of writer he or she is. A person’s diction, their observation of the rules of grammar; everything that makes them a writer is displayed most truly in their blogs (or diaries). A report is one thing but when there is no force commanding a person to write they can let their ideas flow without fear of ridicule or judgment. While this is technically an assignment I don’t see it as such. I’ve been spilling my thoughts on blogs for ages and so this is much easier than, say, writing a 4 page analysis on why Raskolnikov isn’t a tragic hero. I was just interrupted by my friend who asked me for someone’s email. Let me begin by stating this about myself as a writer: I hate being interrupted-my train of thought crashes.
I have been writing for years. I have written umpteen essays, countless stories, and an immeasurable amount of blog posts. I entered the United States with a blank slate for a head. When I took my seat in my first American classroom I was overcome with grief at the fact that I didn’t know a word of English (that’s a lie. I knew “hello”). After about a year my English developed rather quickly and finally in third grade I was informed by my teacher that I wasn’t a very good writer. So, needless to say, I was distraught. My mother visited my teacher during conferences that were indescribably boring to hear how I was progressing. My teacher’s youngest daughter was in the room fidgeting with obvious discomfort at the idea of being cooped up in a classroom all day with her mother. My teacher recommended to my mother that we hire tutor and have me watch Sesame Street (”Rebecca! What channel is Sesame Street on?”) in order to help my English. I didn’t think my language was that bad but apparently it wasn’t up to par.
Allow me to skip ahead a few years. After the tutor, beyond my first reports, past my mini-book on alligators, my writing has evolved and developed dramatically. I was able to understand language that children my age shouldn’t even be aware of. I was questioned time and time again from where it was that I copied my reports. I was insulted and defended myself to no end.
“I didn’t copy it!” I would say
“Then what does this word mean?” Would follow, seeing as my teacher obviously didn’t believe I read anything other than Dr. Seuss.
Long story short, I was insulted numerous times but that’s mainly because my pride was a little higher than that of your average elementary school student. Despite the interrogations I still maintained that I was a good writer and would sometimes open up a dictionary to see what new words I could learn (Yes, yes, I’m a loser).
Presently, I enjoy writing. I have had a great amount of time to collect words and ideas and always find it interesting to incorporate esoteric themes just to see if the teacher could understand what on earth I was talking about. I have written very unorthodox pieces of work for my teachers in high school. Aside from the reports and essays that I was to hand in I kept a different level of connection between myself and my teachers through writing. One time stands out in my mind, especially. When one of my teachers assigned an essay on a book we read over the summer I gave him an essay twice as long as was required defending my stance that the book chosen by the school was nonsense, wouldn’t help my education in the least and then I pointed out numerous problems within the school itself. This “report” resulted in extra credit. Another rather interesting moment in my life was when I typed up a 4 page essay for my Sociology teacher explaining why I didn’t like him or his class. At the end of the year I left with a 98 on his final, a 99 in his class and he now stands as one of the most influential people in my life.
As you may have probably been able to understand, my work does not thrive in an environment which forces me write. I, of course, can pull off a 10 page report analyzing love in Shakespeare’s plays but I would not put as much care into it as I would in something I write for myself. I call my papers and reports, despite their overall high grades, “bullshit.” Sometimes I enjoy writing them and in those cases they have a higher quality than other, more tedious assignments. Nevertheless, my best work is published on my personal blog, shared with only one other person. I decided to copy and paste one of my posts on said blog into Microsoft word and found it to be 5 pages long. It was incredibly easy to write, it flowed well and then voilá! An essay was developed, unconsciously.
In general I write best when I am influenced. Usually my influence is music and when I find a very nice piece I loop it until I finish whatever I am writing at the time. The song usually loops dozens of times and this may make some people disgusted but I find myself more connected to that particular song when i finish writing. Sometimes my influence is closer to me. In my senior year of high school I became slightly reckless; I became more “martyr”-like. One of the deans in the school labeled me with that word after I questioned a teacher’s methods continuously throughout the year. From wearing derogatory t-shirts in his classroom and insulting him openly to collecting written complaints from his students; I was creating a full blown Biology coup d’état. Of course, I only allowed myself this privilege because I easily aced any work he gave the class. This situation was only caused by the fact that I was never so infuriated by a single human being in my life. I’ve never done such things before and do not intend to any time soon. Needless to say, I wrote a ridiculous amount during that semester. I wrote about equality and privilege; I wrote about kindness and understanding; I wrote about mental capacity and the power of anger. All of these pieces were pages long and read by only one person. This person is one of my closest friends, the reader who has access to my personal blog and the young woman with a incredible average; currently attending Vassar.
I believe I made it clear that I am a writer. Now, onto my foibles! I am a terrible speller! Aided, obviously, by spell-check I really never get to develop my own skills in this matter. You wouldn’t believe how long it took me to remember the concept of “i before e.” Secondly, my grammar skills are atrocious. I’m not even sure where to stick semi-colons, despite my using them consistently throughout this blog. In addition, the correct use of commas eludes me. I also find that I ramble to ridiculous proportions. I assume I like writing when there is no restraint or limit. Bad, Anton! Finally, I believe my biggest flaw is my inability to chop up sentences. I am always told my sentences are run-on but I never see them as such. I leave my work filled with incredibly extensive ideas. Is this truly a problem? I feel that I have no reason to break apart such sentences because they are one long thought coming from my mind and severing it to make it grammatically correct is an insult to the contemplation itself.
I always wanted to become a writer. I intended to minor in English. I truly need guidance and assistance to hone my writing. I want to perfect my writing and I want to be skilled in this art. This may seem like an unnecessary goal but I feel that if I could only write my papers using those 13 points of an essay I can become great. There are these authors who are hailed and praised for their styles; Hemingway, Faulkner, Maupassant. It may seem stupid but I wish to become like them. I want to feel fulfilled. Each piece of writing I pull from my brain always seems to be lacking something. I don’t care that my grade for that piece is 100. I don’t think it’s my full ability. I need extensive help and I believe that the only people who can direct me are professors with such skill and knowledge that I long for. Professor Smith, I implore you to guide me lest my idiosyncrasies lead to my downfall.
P.S. I wonder how many times I used the word “write” in this post. I am very sorry for the length.