Blog 2
Hello again, everyone! Happy second blog! Let's jump right into it.
Angell/White
When reading about Angell's stepfather, E. B. White, I begin to imagine the amount of stress that occurs in his profession. I am not sure how much room for error is allowed in writing for The New Yorker, but I imagine that there is little to none. Seeing that The New Yorker is a very popular magazine read by a substantial amount of people, I can understand why White would spend hours in his study mulling over and typing the notes. The same can be said for any published work; typically, the author does not want a single visible mistake/misprint on their work since their name is attributed to whatever is published in said work.
The same applies to our class; when writing the bibliography (and any other significant research assignment), I want to make sure that everything is proofread and articulates exactly what I want to get across to the reader. Angell's phrase, "Writing is hard, even for authors who do it all the time" is somewhat comforting to me. Whenever I get writer's block, I often panic and imagine that I am somehow struggling with an assignment that everyone else in the class is perfectly fine with. Depending on the situation, this thought is selfish and often not true. Reading about how professional writers struggle themselves with finalizing and accepting their work reassures me that I am not the only one who becomes conflicted with writing.
This is not to say that the struggling is attributed to poor performance (although perfectionists might say that about their own work). It seems that, especially with White, the struggle is due to the writer placing high expectations on himself/herself so much that nothing besides perfection is acceptable. Angell mentions that White would often say his work was "not good enough," and after reading about White's experiences with William Strunk Jr., I can understand why he would think this way. Strunk seemed to have his rules firmly established in The Elements of Style, and the somewhat harsh nature of the rules (White referred to them as "sharp commands") could have either attributed to or enhanced White's perfectionist nature.
Strunk's rule of "omitting needless words" is something I try to continually improve upon. In one way or another, I have witnessed many of my previous high school English teachers tell students this rule (usually through a different saying such as, "Keep it simple, stupid!"). This idea is not necessarily new to me, yet I still have to catch myself when writing because I create phrases that are too wordy. When I previously read this article, I self-assessed in regards to writing. Now, I am curious if I do the same with speaking/presenting. Do I use too many words when I talk? Can I simplify my speech when presenting? I will continue to ask myself these questions as presenting and speaking are major components of our degree and profession.
Leyba
I feel like the term "conciseness" should be a "word-of-the-day" for this blog. While the two previous readings focused on concisely writing, Leyba's reading is geared towards concise reading. I enjoyed reading Leyba's argument that students do not have to read the entire text word-for-word in order to understand its purpose. When taking graduate courses this past spring, I (unwisely) signed up for Psychology of Music Teaching, Music Since 1800, and Post-Tonal Theory (I almost added in Wind Pedagogy as well). Throw in performance studies (lessons, ensembles) and P & P, and I was very busy. Between all of the courses, I do not know if I would have been able to read every word of every assignment that semester. I actually pulled this article out of my Bib binder (from last fall) and kept it in my main folder throughout the semester. It helped me to stay focused and not become overwhelmed with the large amount of work that needed to be done.
Provost
The last time I read this, I had no idea who Gary Provost was. I was intrigued enough by the poem that I spent all of my reflection writing about it. After spending some time with Google search, I noticed how many of his popular works involved instructing writers how to write. From what I have read so far, he goes beyond simple how-to instructions. In the poem, he not only instructs the reader on how to vary the length of sentences, but he does it while simultaneously providing an example of varied sentences for the reader. I also personally enjoy the references and comparisons he makes to music. It's quite remarkable how something so subtle can have such a large impact on the overall outcome of a work. Whether I am writing up a presentation for either graduate school as a student or public school as a teacher, I will plan to keep this poem in the back of my head. I may not have it sitting in my main folder, but who knows; I may end up putting it on a bulletin board or recommending it to an English teacher.
That's all I've got this time. Until next time, have a great night everyone!
Angell/White
When reading about Angell's stepfather, E. B. White, I begin to imagine the amount of stress that occurs in his profession. I am not sure how much room for error is allowed in writing for The New Yorker, but I imagine that there is little to none. Seeing that The New Yorker is a very popular magazine read by a substantial amount of people, I can understand why White would spend hours in his study mulling over and typing the notes. The same can be said for any published work; typically, the author does not want a single visible mistake/misprint on their work since their name is attributed to whatever is published in said work.
The same applies to our class; when writing the bibliography (and any other significant research assignment), I want to make sure that everything is proofread and articulates exactly what I want to get across to the reader. Angell's phrase, "Writing is hard, even for authors who do it all the time" is somewhat comforting to me. Whenever I get writer's block, I often panic and imagine that I am somehow struggling with an assignment that everyone else in the class is perfectly fine with. Depending on the situation, this thought is selfish and often not true. Reading about how professional writers struggle themselves with finalizing and accepting their work reassures me that I am not the only one who becomes conflicted with writing.
This is not to say that the struggling is attributed to poor performance (although perfectionists might say that about their own work). It seems that, especially with White, the struggle is due to the writer placing high expectations on himself/herself so much that nothing besides perfection is acceptable. Angell mentions that White would often say his work was "not good enough," and after reading about White's experiences with William Strunk Jr., I can understand why he would think this way. Strunk seemed to have his rules firmly established in The Elements of Style, and the somewhat harsh nature of the rules (White referred to them as "sharp commands") could have either attributed to or enhanced White's perfectionist nature.
Strunk's rule of "omitting needless words" is something I try to continually improve upon. In one way or another, I have witnessed many of my previous high school English teachers tell students this rule (usually through a different saying such as, "Keep it simple, stupid!"). This idea is not necessarily new to me, yet I still have to catch myself when writing because I create phrases that are too wordy. When I previously read this article, I self-assessed in regards to writing. Now, I am curious if I do the same with speaking/presenting. Do I use too many words when I talk? Can I simplify my speech when presenting? I will continue to ask myself these questions as presenting and speaking are major components of our degree and profession.
Leyba
I feel like the term "conciseness" should be a "word-of-the-day" for this blog. While the two previous readings focused on concisely writing, Leyba's reading is geared towards concise reading. I enjoyed reading Leyba's argument that students do not have to read the entire text word-for-word in order to understand its purpose. When taking graduate courses this past spring, I (unwisely) signed up for Psychology of Music Teaching, Music Since 1800, and Post-Tonal Theory (I almost added in Wind Pedagogy as well). Throw in performance studies (lessons, ensembles) and P & P, and I was very busy. Between all of the courses, I do not know if I would have been able to read every word of every assignment that semester. I actually pulled this article out of my Bib binder (from last fall) and kept it in my main folder throughout the semester. It helped me to stay focused and not become overwhelmed with the large amount of work that needed to be done.
Provost
The last time I read this, I had no idea who Gary Provost was. I was intrigued enough by the poem that I spent all of my reflection writing about it. After spending some time with Google search, I noticed how many of his popular works involved instructing writers how to write. From what I have read so far, he goes beyond simple how-to instructions. In the poem, he not only instructs the reader on how to vary the length of sentences, but he does it while simultaneously providing an example of varied sentences for the reader. I also personally enjoy the references and comparisons he makes to music. It's quite remarkable how something so subtle can have such a large impact on the overall outcome of a work. Whether I am writing up a presentation for either graduate school as a student or public school as a teacher, I will plan to keep this poem in the back of my head. I may not have it sitting in my main folder, but who knows; I may end up putting it on a bulletin board or recommending it to an English teacher.
That's all I've got this time. Until next time, have a great night everyone!
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