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Hidden Gems Book Talk

Words to Cling To

Probably one of the biggest catalysts to my personal identity as a writer was an e-mail I received on May 10, 2010. The quote below is a response to an e-mail that I sent to a close friend revealing my desires to write and teach others about writing. These are the words that I “cling to” when I’m not sure I have what it takes.

“Rach…this is beautiful, raw and gutsy…thank you for sharing it with me…Let’s get together and talk when you have a moment…let’s discover together what the plan is…”

Oh, how I needed to hear this response as a writer. Especially that first part, “beautiful, raw and gutsy.” I needed the time of trusted friend, someone to sit with me and process what I was too nervous to share with anyone else. There is the promise of time too, that she did live up to, time to sit reflect on the writing and what it meant.

As I read chapter two of Hidden Gems, I am realizing that perhaps one of my favorite pieces I have ever written has nothing to do with school or the academic world at all. Rather the piece I am most proud of is one I wrote because my heart told me I had to.

I can identify with the feeling that Katherine Bomer talks about in this chapter. . . how comments can help or hinder writers. I have experienced it myself. A small note from a friend, changed me as a writer forever.

Only now, at 26, have I started to feel okay with having others read my writing- from the safety of a blog that is.

What has shaped you as a writer?

3 replies on “Words to Cling To”

Unfortunately, for a long time, it was the red pen of my high school “theme editors”. Now, mentor texts, both published books and the written words of my friends.

This summer I spent several hours on several hot summer days with a new friend. We had lunch at her quaint little house decorated with unique antiques. It’s an old house with metal window frames that push out with no screens and the tree branches almost pop into the house when you open them like you’re in a little jungle. We sat in the kitchen at a small table for two and she told me stories of her trips to Israel when she was young and her family then and now while she prepared a simple salad with fresh herbs and garlic. I was fascinated by her life and warmed by her hospitality. At Christmastime this year I wrote her a card with a little gift. I was a little afraid writing the card because I wanted to tell her how much I enjoyed her company but I wasn’t sure whether she felt quite the same and I didn’t want to overdo the friendship thing. Well I wrote several drafts and finally decided to just speak my heart. After she received the note she found me in the hall at school and came running over and hugged me and thanked me over and over and said that she had never received such a beautiful note before. Now every time she passes me in the hall at school her eyes say that she remembers the note and I’m surprised over and over again at the power of a few words from the heart- hers and mine.

For years, I did nothing but scientific writing. LONG, dry pieces with tons of data and analysis of various experiments and research. I was good at those and writing a 40 page analysis of some drug deriviative’s interference with chemical pathways took only a few hours.

Then I had to start writing mentor text for my students and I agonized over every word. Mine had to be perfect so they had something to model and strive for in their own responses. When I started teaching 8th grade, I had to give all that up because some of them are such gifted writers that I will never be able to write with their ease and comfort-level. It gave me permission to write responses that were just “okay” and to then use them as my resources and together we have written some responses that would knock your socks off. I save them to use in small groups but every year I go through the same process of putting my own flawed pieces out there and then using my classroom resources to create a new response. I think that students need to see that writing is a struggle and a piece is really just a work in progress.

When I feel comfortable as a writer is when I am wrtiting down family stories–you know the ones that your sisters tell new boyfriends just to embarass you? My family has many of those and when I am writing those stories, I can hear my own voice. The same voice that I have used to tell those stories over and over at family dinners takes over my writing and I find that I am grinning from the memory as well as the writing experience.

I still struggle to find that ease and comfort in other writing but that is still a work in progress too.

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