Counting the days . . .
until spring break.
I know this sounds awful, but I really look forward to all the breaks that come with being a writing instructor. Christmas break. Spring break. And the best of all--summer break. If these weren't a part of the teaching calendar, I don't know how long I could last as a writing teacher.
Don't get me wrong. I do like what I do. A lot. But after eight weeks of reading the same old essays about the same old topics, my eyes begin to glaze over. The break from reading and responding to these tired ideas refreshes me just enough to get excited for the last eight weeks that aren't much different than the first eight.
One way I try to combat having to read the same cliched rants is to have a theme run through my course. One semester the students had to write about food. The papers for that semester covered topics like the slow food movement, which baseball park offered the best hotdogs, and why dining alone can be a good thing. I enjoyed so many of these papers as the students took the theme and showed just how much variety can be had in examining it. This semester, the theme is sports. We've had wonderful discussions about sportsmanship, gender issues in sports, and religion in sports. Even the students who say they are not sports people have enjoyed the discussions because they are about more than just baseball, golf, or football. One young lady even decided she was going to tackle the idea that being a stay at home mom should be considered a sport. The class had a rousing discussion about that topic.
But I'm finding I'm tired still of reading papers. A large part of me wants to be able to write my own essays, but I have so little time to devote to it because I have stacks of journal entries to read and respond to along with the longer papers. Or I have a meeting to attend. Or I have junior faculty members to mentor. Or . . .. When I think about people who seem to be able to write everyday, get essays or short stories or even novels written on a regular basis, I always wonder how they do it. Do they just not do anything else? I have been trying to write a wee bit at least two or three times a week. I'm making progress on the children's story I started last summer, but I still have a long way to go before it's even close to being finished. And I have so many starts of short stories and essays that need to be finished. I keep saying this summer is going to be my summer of writing. I hope I can make it happen.
For now, I'm going to do the wee bit of writing each week. Maybe, just maybe, the story will be finished before summer. Then I can spend the summer trying to get it published. I think I'm just a glutton for punishment.
I know this sounds awful, but I really look forward to all the breaks that come with being a writing instructor. Christmas break. Spring break. And the best of all--summer break. If these weren't a part of the teaching calendar, I don't know how long I could last as a writing teacher.
Don't get me wrong. I do like what I do. A lot. But after eight weeks of reading the same old essays about the same old topics, my eyes begin to glaze over. The break from reading and responding to these tired ideas refreshes me just enough to get excited for the last eight weeks that aren't much different than the first eight.
One way I try to combat having to read the same cliched rants is to have a theme run through my course. One semester the students had to write about food. The papers for that semester covered topics like the slow food movement, which baseball park offered the best hotdogs, and why dining alone can be a good thing. I enjoyed so many of these papers as the students took the theme and showed just how much variety can be had in examining it. This semester, the theme is sports. We've had wonderful discussions about sportsmanship, gender issues in sports, and religion in sports. Even the students who say they are not sports people have enjoyed the discussions because they are about more than just baseball, golf, or football. One young lady even decided she was going to tackle the idea that being a stay at home mom should be considered a sport. The class had a rousing discussion about that topic.
But I'm finding I'm tired still of reading papers. A large part of me wants to be able to write my own essays, but I have so little time to devote to it because I have stacks of journal entries to read and respond to along with the longer papers. Or I have a meeting to attend. Or I have junior faculty members to mentor. Or . . .. When I think about people who seem to be able to write everyday, get essays or short stories or even novels written on a regular basis, I always wonder how they do it. Do they just not do anything else? I have been trying to write a wee bit at least two or three times a week. I'm making progress on the children's story I started last summer, but I still have a long way to go before it's even close to being finished. And I have so many starts of short stories and essays that need to be finished. I keep saying this summer is going to be my summer of writing. I hope I can make it happen.
For now, I'm going to do the wee bit of writing each week. Maybe, just maybe, the story will be finished before summer. Then I can spend the summer trying to get it published. I think I'm just a glutton for punishment.
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