The Highest Form of Flattery

I am finally, finally in a class where I get to write something other than term papers, and so far we have spent the first five and a half weeks reading other people’s writing. I’m still waiting for the point where we actually get to do some substantial writing that is not based on imitation of anyone else’s writing.

So my first real writing assignment of the class of any substantial nature was to take a trip into the local town and ride the bus to somewhere we hadn’t been (or that we could pretend we hadn’t been too), take copious notes, and write “two fine paragraphs” one “modeled on a fine paragraph in one of the works we have already read.” Despite the depressing aspect of the project–imitate someone else?– I managed to become inspired. One of the strengths of my writng has always been my attention to detail in description and my remarkable perception. I see and hear everything, and I can convey what I see and hear well, so this is exactly the type of writing I can be good at.

So how did the writing come out? It was good, the best I’d written in a while. I wish I could have written about Florida, but it was good, especially for the level of motivation I set out with.

I really want to write about Florida, all of the things I did. I discovered a new level of competency in myself. I used to think that I could do nothing but write well–everything else I did would be mediocre at best. This summer I discovered that I do have other talents. But I’ll always be a writer.

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