My stagnant fingers grow mud-heavy with grading. Relegated to the same letter-trenches, they add, “Watch for fragments”, “Be careful of run-ons”, and “Cite your sources,” to nearly all my thoughts. Writing is like swimming in a bog.
I’ve never been a free-drafter, capable of simply slamming down on paper the idea, in its worst form. I’m a brain writer, half-composing a symphony of sentences before I turn on the monitor. By the time I type it out, my story is in its second draft.
When I’m writing, my God I’m prolific. I can slap down six thousand good words in a day.… Read the rest
Here’s a continuation of the text language I wish I could use when grading. As a reminder, this applies to maybe a tenth of the people I teach. I’m not even writing it out of irritation with my students in particular, but because I’m in a completely grumpy mood, have been so for months now, and I need to snark about something.
… Read the rest