On Writing

I enjoy reading good writing. I’m often at awe of what good writers can do with the syntax, the rhythm, the diction. I love the cozy and nostalgic mood in Amy Tan’s novels and am impressed by Hemingway’s ability to make simple language so powerful. But this is where our (my and writing’s) chemistry ends. Writing has never been easy for me. To me, reading a good writer’s writing is like window-shopping—I can watch, but never can I own.

I used to love writing straight-forward research papers because I didn’t have to scratch my head till it bled just to come up with one good metaphor. I used to loathe poetry because it’s so abstract and so full of clever imagery. I never understood why poetry has to be so abstruse and, sometimes, so convoluted, like the lyrics of “Fly Me to the Moon”: “Poets often use many words: to describe a simple thing.”

Last June I had a choice on whether or not to take AP English Language and Composition. I almost dropped the class, but—maybe I was just following the crowd, maybe it was the desire to impress college with one additional AP class—I decided to take the challenge, knowing I was expected to do well on something I had so little knowledge about: writing. What I did not know at the time was how much this ten-month experience would change me. It has changed almost everything I know and think about writing.

I still scratch my head, but only more frequently and with greater intensity. I find myself hunting down literary techniques and rhetorical strategies whenever I read or write, and mulling over the minute differences between “on” or “at.” I finally realize what “writing conscientiously” entails and how much effort I must dedicate for even a remotely good piece of writing. It was this year when I started to take writing (and reading) as a serious endeavor. It was this class that broadened my understanding of English and led me to view language as a form of art for the first time.

Most importantly, I begin to perceive writing as a mirror—a mirror of the writer’s personality, character, and nature. Through the use of syntax, punctuation, rhythm, I can see the writer, hear him talk, and feel him breathe. As I read, a writer’s inner self leaps out of the page and his deepest thoughts become evident between the lines, among the words, and inside every period and comma. Reading one’s writing is like meeting a new friend, and writing is like introducing oneself to the entire world. Although I’m still quite frustrated with creative writing and figurative language, I now take pleasure in the creative process with much greater enthusiasm. I enjoy exploring the world of language and introducing different sides of me to my readers. I learn to write with honesty and plainness, for this is who I am.