Looking back on my writing portfolio was an experience more vulnerable than I was prepared for. I started from the beginning, Me As A Writer. Reading an older piece, albeit only by a few months, about my reasons for writing excited me to write more again. It was like a reminder of my love for writing which I didn’t even realize I had been neglecting.
I prefer my older writing to my more recent ones. I’m not sure what changed and why, but somehow over the course of the semester, I think the joy I derive from writing slowly waned as my assignments grew in complexity and number. Particularly in the essay The Great Allentown Fair, I could hear “my voice” as we call it in class, and could see the scene play out in my head as a reader. My favorite line is “What did seem great to me however were the brief moments I stole in the midst of long lines and loud crowds.”
Compared to this, I found that I didn’t have a line that particularly struck me towards the more recent writing in my portfolio. In Longer Reflection, although I still noticed a bit of my voice peeking through, it was nowhere near the level it once was at. It felt flat and rushed, and was definitely one of my least favorite pieces.
1001 Nights, the poem I wrote in response to the assignment of adding our own stories to The Nights, was another piece I liked but would probably still rewrite just because I feel like I could do better using the knowledge I have learned from this class as well as my Introduction to Poetry class.
The same stands for Should We Be Reading The Nights, a piece I don’t dislike but could still rewrite better. To be specific, I would answer the question the prompt asked earlier in the essay, and also remove and replace the second paragraph with a more analytical perspective. To me, right now it reads as a reiteration of information we have already covered in class and thus feels almost like filler. I would state my opinion earlier and then move forward with a critical and analytical voice when listing out my reasons in the following paragraphs.
One thing that brought me a lot of joy was reading The Orient First Draft, and immediately following it up with The Marketplace of Agrabah: A Classist Mockery of the Middle East, which is the final piece. If I had to pick one, then I would say that this was the assignment that made me the most stressed. I felt pressured and dejected because I hated my first draft, and had to ask for an extension. Still, it taught me the importance of first drafts, even if they’re so bad they make me angry, and how getting something down can just be the first step to a cohesive and well-written paper.
This essay was the most quantifiable proof of the massive changes my writing process has undergone since being in college. Before, being that I was praised for being a great writer even when I had written something at the absolute last minute, I just wrote and wrote till I felt I was satisfied and then went back to do some line edits at most. This helped, sure, when I was overwhelmed with several writing tasks or wanted to get in that “zone” I mentioned in Me As A Writer but it also set me back with the feeling of being confined to my original idea or draft.
Through this essay, I was able to let go of the subconscious belief that changing my topic or cutting something from my first draft was somehow a failure on my part as a writer and taught me to appreciate the large changes that can be made once I have an initial draft to use as a baseline. The Marketplace of Agrabah is my favorite piece of writing for this class and remains so despite the improvements I am aware it could very well use.
Reading back on my writing often leads to a contrasting mix of pride and criticism, and this time was no different. However, it also leads to understanding myself and my processes better. I am a firm believer that one’s creations, be they visual arts or writing or anything else, reflect some part of them. I like to analyze and wonder about the minds and thoughts of artists like Claude Monet, Van Gogh, Sylvia Plath, and Virginia Woolf. Getting an opportunity to view myself from the same lens is one I cherish at any moment and, sure enough, did this time as well.
