"How do I know what I think until I see what I say?"
— E.M. Forster
Recently, I had a student tell me she doesn’t like to pre-write. “I just jump right in,” she says. But as we talked about her writing process, it became evident that she actually does quite a bit of pre-writing, such as “thinking” about her topic while driving to and from school, Googling her topic and reading about it on Wikipedia, and jotting notes on her hand about key points she wants to remember to include.
For as much as she claimed to never pre-write, she did quite a bit of it. I suppose her confusion came from her pre-writing strategies not looking like the crisp, clearly defined exercises prescribed in textbooks, such as creating an outline with roman numerals. But that doesn’t mean pre-writing wasn’t already a critical part of her writing process.
As you read about some of these strategies—not just for pre-writing, but for all of the steps of the writing process—keep in mind that these are simply things that have worked for some people. If you have tried outlining and have found that it doesn’t help, that’s fine. You don’t ever have to do it again (unless, of course, your instructor makes you). And if you see a strategy you haven’t tried, give it a whirl. If it works, then add it to your personal list of “proven effective” writing strategies. Or, as I like to say to my students, “put it in your back pocket and use it again someday.”
First things first: it doesn’t matter how good of a writer you are, if you don’t understand the writing assignment, you’re going to have a bad time.
While teaching in New England and California, I asked thirty or so professors who had taught writing in courses outside the English department (like psychology or business) what they felt was the biggest stumbling block students faced when completing writing assignments. The number-one problem they mentioned was the failure of students to understand and follow the instructions for the writing assignment. In other words, they didn’t care how well written a paper was—if the student didn’t follow the assignment guidelines, they didn’t get a good grade.
I was happy to hear this, because for a while I thought it was just a pet-peeve of mine when students didn’t follow instructions. Turns out, it’s a pervasive problem.
Fortunately, it’s an easy problem to fix. Here is my two-cents’ worth of free advice:
Read Over the Assignment Prompt in its Entirety: Don’t just skim it for due dates. Instructors like to leave a lot of clues as to what they are looking for, things you should avoid, and how they will grade your writing. At first glance, it might seem like a long, boring passage, or you might be tempted to think the instructor covered everything in class, but that’s rarely the case.
Pay Attention to the Instructor as He or She Explains the Assignment Prompt: If your course schedule says something like "Begin Unit One," it's a good idea to attend that day. Your instructor is going to be dishing out a lot of useful information. And if you are absent (I’m sure you have a good reason), don't email the instructor saying, "Did I miss anything important today?" Writing instructors like to think that every class session is super important, so that kind of question will usually cost you a few brownie points and not elicit the response you were hoping for. Instead, say, "I would like to stop by during your office hours tomorrow to make sure I understand the upcoming assignment."
Ask the Instructor Clarifying Questions: Don’t be shy—chances are there are ten other people in the room who have the exact same question, and you’ll be their hero!
Ask Fellow Students: Be sure to ask fellow students who seem like they “get” it. Don't ask the guy who walked in ten minutes late and never removed his headphones. Ask the person sitting on the front row furiously taking notes.
Visit the Writing Center: Take the assignment instructions to the writing center and make sure they’re reading and understanding it the same way you are. Many of the tutors will be familiar with the writing assignments created by your professor, and they may have even taken his or her course. It’s always good to get the inside scoop on what your professor will be expecting in your paper. But even if they have never taken the class or heard of your professor, they are usually quite good at deciphering assignment instructions.
Ask Your Mom to Explain it to You: Or your dad or your brother or your neighbor or someone you trust. Like with the writing tutors, a second set of eyes can go a long way.
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Professors, especially writing instructors, like to tell you that they aren’t your audience. “Write your paper with your classmates in mind,” they might say. Or, “Pretend you’re writing this for a magazine.” But the simple fact is that your professor is the one who will be reading and grading the assignment, so it’s paramount that you are following their instructions. If they tell you to write four pages minimum, don’t write three and hope it’s enough. If they tell you to write a third-person analysis, don’t write a first-person narrative.
If you want to deviate from the instructions, ALWAYS ask the professor’s permission. Usually, they will be cool with it and might even appreciate your creativity or initiative. But don’t just assume that it’s okay. You might end up spending dozens of hours writing a wonderful essay that earns you a terrible grade.
Professors have many goals in mind with their writing assignments, and sometimes these goals are out of their hands: they have specific assignments and tasks and objectives handed to them by the department or school, and completing the assignment as instructed is the only way to achieve those goals. They might want you to show off how well you know the course material, or that you are a whiz with finding and incorporating sources, or that you have a mastery of the English language.
Sometimes, though, the goal is simply that they want you to demonstrate that you can follow instructions.
It’s a beast of many names—fast-writing, free-writing, quick-writing, non-censured writing—but whatever you call it, the rules are the same:
Use the time to think on the paper
Write anything that comes to your mind, no matter how irrelevant it may be to the prompt
Don’t worry that anyone will read it (they won’t; although, you might be asked to share some of your ideas with the class)
Keep your pen moving or your fingers typing—if you stall on an idea, move on!
Silence your inner critic—don’t edit anything
I hated free-writing as a student. My hand would cramp and I almost always ended up writing about what I ate for breakfast. Rarely did I ever go back and read my free-writes. When I started teaching, however, I made my students free-write nearly daily, and I would grin as they took a break from furiously writing to massage their aching hands. But I really wasn’t being sadistic—a lot had happened between my first year of college and my first year of teaching. By then, I really was a believer. It happened when I was writing my thesis for my master’s degree. I had struggled to write even a few pages, and I became utterly stalled. After a couple days of writer's block, I decided to open up a blank Word page, and I thought, “I’ll just free-write for a minute.” It felt weird, like somehow, somewhere my first-year writing instructor could sense what I was doing. I didn't want her to know that she had won. Surprisingly, though, it helped. What I had intended to be a five-minute free-writing session turned into a half hour, and I ended up using a lot of that material in my thesis.
Something about writing in a blank document helped. I wasn’t committing anything to the thesis. It didn’t matter how absurd or stupid I sounded. I knew my thesis advisor wouldn’t read it. And, as a result, I produced some of my best ideas in those free-writing sessions. I’ve been addicted to free-writing as a pre-writing strategy ever since (even though it often occurs during my drafting stage).
My positive experiences with free-writing remind me of a quote I recently saw on an exceptionally nerdy t-shirt: “You can’t think your way out of a writing block, but you can write your way out of a thinking block.” [1]
Free-writing doesn't have to be a structured activity. Some instructors will ask you to keep a journal where you will do a lot of free-writing, and they will encourage you to keep a journal once the class is over to continue the practice. If you find that works for you, great. My free-writing usually occurs in random places: blank Word documents, backs of envelopes, notepads, scraps of paper, in my iPhone Memo app. It doesn't matter where you free-write or if you save them—unless, that is, your instructor has asked you to free-write in a certain place and/or turn in those free-writings. I discourage instructors from doing that, however. The whole point of free-writing is knowing you can write anything you want without the threat of someone reading it and judging you for it. So if your instructor asks you to turn your free-writing in, highlight this passage and show it to him or her!
My second go-to pre-writing strategy is listing. It’s simple: you make lists. If you’re not sure what to make a list of, then start by making a list of possible lists.
If I’m writing about whether or not the university should build a new parking structure, I’ll start by making a list of questions. Why would people oppose this? Who would pay for it? What would be the downsides? And then I’ll take each of those questions and list a bunch of answers.
I like to mesh listing and free-writing together. Often, my free-writes will devolve into list making, and sometimes a list item will turn into a two-page free-write. That’s okay. It doesn’t have to look pretty or make sense to anyone but myself. That's the key to pre-writing, that it be useful to you.
(Scroll to the bottom of this page to see a listing activity that I use in class!)
I don't cluster, but I admire those who do. I love seeing students' clusters in their notebooks, like weird sci-fi spider-bubble creatures with words tattooed all over them.
I actually do clustering on the whiteboard when I'm helping students come up with ideas. If they're stuck, I'll write their topic on the board, draw a circle around it, and then ask them some sort of clarifying question. Once we have our spider-bubble creature, we'll look for patterns, and usually the students will look relieved and tell me they've got a good idea of what they want to do.
There's something nice about the visualization of our potential topics and ideas that seems to help a lot of students. That's what free-writing and listing does for me, but if you find you're more of a "visual" person, then you might want to try clustering.
I’m not sure that brainstorming merits its own category here. Really, it describes the creative process behind a lot of these pre-writing strategies. Free-writing, listing, and clustering are all forms of brainstorming.
The premise behind any brainstorming session is that there are no stupid ideas, only ideas. Sometimes, it’s impossible to tell if an idea is worth pursuing until you write it down. As one of my supervisors used to say during our team brainstorming sessions, “Let’s run it up the flagpole and see if anyone salutes.” Write down any idea that comes to mind, because it might eventually lead to that one great idea you know is out there but that you can't quite put your finger on.
When I first got married, it worried my wife that I would spend hours staring at the wall. She thought I was sad or bored or depressed. I tried to explain to her that I was thinking.
A couple decades later, it still bothers her. I'm not sure I've convinced her that my thinking time is as important and productive as any other part of my writing process.
I don’t always stair at walls. Sometimes I go for walks. If I'm trying to craft a plotline for a new story, I might end up walking nine miles. Some folks do their best singing in the shower, I do my best thinking. Sometimes I'll stare blankly into a computer screen. That's okay. Writing doesn't mean you'll always have your fingers on the keyboard. Sometimes looking at shoes on Pinterest or throwing a ball at the wall is the best way to get the ideas flowing.
I used to carry around a mole-skin journal everywhere I went. It was small enough to keep in my back pocket without noticing it, and I would write ideas for stories or essays. Sometimes I'd write interesting words or names I had heard. Bits of dialogue. Nothing major, but I knew if I didn't write it down right away, I would forget.
Now, I carry a smart phone with a variety of writing and voice apps, and it serves the same purpose. If something interesting pops into my head, I type it or record it before it's gone. Occasionally, I'll read through my previous entries to find inspiration.
Whatever the mechanism, I recommend keeping some sort of writing journal or idea journal.
There are dozens of essays in circulation on the merits of keeping a writing journal, so I won’t attempt to regurgitate what has already been said, except to say that the common consensus among novelists and journalists and essayists is that you simply can’t rely on your memory. If something good pops into your head, write it down as soon as you can, otherwise the only thing you will remember is having had a good thought, but not having any idea what that thought actually was. Ideas are invaluable—even the dumb ones—don’t lose them to the inky recesses of your brain.
I was forced to outline quite often in high school. It seems every story or essay had to begin with a perfectly formatted outline, and I remember one teacher getting irritated with me that I couldn't remember when to use roman numerals and when to use lower-case letters. The format of the outline seemed to be more important than the ideas within, so I found myself avoiding outlines at all costs. I was an idea man, after all, not a format snob.
Some folks find outlines useful in helping them come up with ideas. For me, they are a great tool after I have developed some key ideas and want to find a way to organize them. It’s tough to organize your thoughts when you have no thoughts to organize. A little free-writing, listing, or clustering can solve that, and then an outline makes a nice bridge to the first draft.
Remember that outlines are not contracts that can’t be broken, and they are not pre-approved blueprints that can’t be altered. Outlines should be flexible and open-ended, otherwise they will stymie the creative process. A big part of drafting is discovering. Have you ever started writing a story or an essay but ended up with something completely different? Sometimes it's frustrating, feeling like you just can't get your ideas on paper. But other times, it's wonderful, and you end up surprising yourself. "How did I come up with that?" you wonder. There's an element of serendipity to the drafting stage, when you'll come up with things you never planned or expected. Your outline may serve you well as you begin the drafting process, but keep an open mind and be willing to go a different direction.
Please excuse the vulgar reference, but this is what I call it. I debated putting this in the section on drafting, because technically that's what it is: a very, very rough draft. But I've decided to leave it here because it's closer to free-writing than drafting.
If you are like some of my students and like to just "jump right into" writing your paper with little or no prep work, then this is the pre-writing strategy for you. It gives you a chance to start working on your paper and putting form to your thoughts and ideas, but with all the non-committal luxury of free-writing.
To create a vomit draft, simply open your word processor and start typing. Just get it all out there. Type whatever comes to mind. Don't worry about organization or spelling or grammar. Don't worry that anyone is going to read it. Make notes to yourself as you go along, like, "[This is where I'll talk about that one dude who said that thing…where did I see that quote? Harper’s?]"
Unlike real vomit, however, when you're done, you can't just walk away and let your roommate deal with it. Eventually, you'll have to return to the draft and clean it up yourself, at least enough that it can become a solid rough draft (aka first draft) that you would feel comfortable handing into your instructor or sharing with your classmates in a workshop.
Here is an easy activity to help you come up with a topic and generate some ideas. It is based on the literacy-narrative assignment in my first-year writing course at Dixie State, but it works well with any personal essay.
1.List five potential topics for your literacy narrative, and then underline the one you’re most likely to write about.
2.List five questions about the underlined topic that you could try to answer in your literacy narrative.
3.List five things, such as examples or stories, you could include in the literacy narrative.
Mike’s Attempt at This Listing Exercise:
1. List five potential topics for your literacy narrative, and then underline the one you’re most likely to write about.
Trying to get certified in Office
Why I don’t do well with poetry
Learning to play the banjo and mandolin
Wanting to learn to fix cars
Maintaining a neutral approach to news
2. List five questions about the underlined topic that you could try to answer in your literacy narrative.
Why is it harder for adults to learn a new instrument?
Why now?
How likely is a self-taught banjoist to ever be as good as someone who takes lessons?
Am I making a mistake trying to learn two instruments at the same time (should I just be focusing on the banjo for a while?)?
Why do I like the banjo so much?
3. List five things, such as examples or stories, you could include in the literacy narrative.
My “Aha!” moment while reading “History of the World” at 2 am with bluegrass in the background
The Scrubs theme song
Trying to learn guitar in high school (epic failure!)
Thrill of big piano recital in Ogden
Father and daughter at the talent show with acoustic guitars singing O Holy Night
Andy and Dwight singing “Country Roads” on The Office
Giving janky old Mandolin to Tom
The romantic notion of playing the banjo by the campfire vs. the reality
Buying guitars with Griffin and ukuleles with Caleigh
The nature of hobbies and the struggle of school, career, money, and parenthood.
Note: This may not seem like much, but in the couple of minutes it took me to generate these lists, I went from having no idea what to write a literacy narrative about to being excited to start writing about my midlife journey to learn the banjo. I still don't know exactly what I'll include in the essay or how it will be organized, but it will be easy now to start fleshing out some of these ideas. Since it's a personal essay, I probably won't worry about creating an outline. I like to just start writing the stories and see where they take me.
[1] A quick Google search tells me this quote comes from Merlin Mann.