My Last Advice

~ December 12, 2012

My Last Advice ~

Hello all,

Tonight I would like to give you some advice that was provided to me today by a woman that I work for, who happens to be a marvelous English professor and a martyr of many fields. She said that expertise can get you a master’s degree, but versatility will put the check-book into your hands. This was rather fascinating. You see, in the past, I have experienced various bouts of indifference, all created by myself, in order to explore avenues that I was always sure that I wanted to pursue, without heed to what anyone else said. However, the more I explored these paths, always in my own stubborn way, never listening to what others told me, the more I slowly realized that thinking that I knew everything was getting me nowhere. People would patiently explain that I should be setting my heights on exploring different fields within writing, rather than my own agenda, so that I would be in a better position to write different pieces to audiences that wanted to read what I had created.

But, true to my own rebellious nature and my penchant for being unique, I did not listen.

When I entered Madonna University, in the winter of 2010, I thought that my path had been made out of the fairy-dust of destiny. I unwittingly entered into some unknown origin, facing demons with great, wings of leathery black, and phantoms that hid behind bedroom doors which I could not see, except for in a good movie. While it was exciting for awhile, eventually I got tired of seeing jacks jump out of their boxes, hiding in places that were not within my line of vision. It was a much harder journey than I expected it would be, and even my adventurous side, eventually became worn down by the constant and at the last unmanageable struggling.

I did not understand, when I first became one of the writing students at the university, why the factors which made me unique were not making the landscape of my studies more fun, and exotic. In the past, writing had always been an adventure. Now, it seemed that my skills at enigma were only serving against me. What had I done to imbue the constant flow of criticism from my professors? My essays were always well written, but many of my instructors, especially my composition ones, balked at my inability to follow the directions of an assignment. If I wrote in a phrase such as, ‘flies swarmed around the magnificent article,” what I took in my imagination to mean that the article had garnered the attention of many critics, my ideas were immediately dismissed as ‘not being plain enough.’ Was not the purpose of writing to show my audience how talented I was? Didn’t any of my instructors want to see what I could do as a writer? Apparently not. I kept making the same mistake- over, and over, and over again.

The problem was, that I simply did not want to state what I meant in plain English. I thought that plain English was boring and uninteresting, and I really didn’t understand why anyone would want to read it. I have always been an avid story reader, and to think that I was now facing the political coverage of last Saturday’s debate, with a task that ordered me to write about it in a purely analytical way, was almost unthinkable. I could not cotton to the idea. Yet, eventually . . . as comment after comment poured in, all to the same effect, I realized that I needed to change the way I thought about it.

One of the best instructors that I have ever had the privilege to be a student of, gently began to reprimand me in a way that was much more comprehensible than that which I had gleaned from previous mentors. The head of my department is a soft-spoken woman with a penchant for creative writing as great as my own, and we connected with each other from the beginning. She explained that as a writer, even though she albeit saw me as a professional one, that I did not need to show everyone what I could do. “Not all at once,” she told me. She said that there were different times and places in which my skills would at some point be found attractive. Each skill was different, and they rarely needed to be used in the same medium for the same reason. All of them are useful, but they do not belong together. It’s a bit like mixing oil and water, I guess . . .

I received some critical feedback from her a couple of weeks ago. She said that my work was excellent, but was best left up to a different audience to discover. She told me to revise my work according to the knowledge of an audience that merely wanted some information. “A bit like reading a plumber’s manual . . . ” in her own words. I pondered over this notion for about a day, extremely frustrated. Yet, I trusted her advice. Therefore, I started to think of all the ways in which I could make the report more attainable to others. I tossed it around in my head so many times that I became sick of it, and had to sleep on it until the next morning. And that’s when it came to me- I had spent all of my time previously writing my assignments in the most emotionally connected way possible. Now, in order to write something which I considered to be mundane, I need to do the opposite.

I gave it a try. When I was finished with the polished product, I turned it into my instructor, biting my tongue, and hoping against hope that this time, I had focused my energies correctly, by in essence removing them.

Today she spoke to me about my revision. Her reaction was the most gratifying and heartfelt one that I could have ever hoped to glean. She was extremely proud, and she listened with interest as I explained the method I had used.

I now understand what I did not. For ages, I had thought of writing as an individual and unique gift, one that comes only from the writer. The reality is, that you are writing for many different types of people, all of whom will not see your work in the same way. You are writing with a specific purpose by putting yourself in their mind rather than that of your own. Never stop writing for yourself. But, keep in mind that not everyone will always think that you know best and take you to be credible. Don’t come off as a humbug that doesn’t care about what others think. Always make sure that when you put your work out to the public, you are keeping their interests in mind too . . .

and this is all I have to say on the subject.

I do feel it incumbent upon me to tell all of you that this will most likely be my last post for the ‘Speculative Edge.’ I am a student intern, with a lasting place with the magazine that was only meant to be until September. I want you to know that I have truly enjoyed updating this blog, and sharing with you many of my personal experiences. It is my greatest hope that it has been of some use. For now, I will bid you adieu, with my best wishes for your fortunes in any area of life, whatever that may prove to be, in the end. However, since I am not of the mind to remove myself from your wonderful presence entirely, I am placing down below several links by which you can follow my work if any of you are interested. Again, the pleasure has been all mine. I hope you all have a beautiful holiday.

Forever and always,

‘On the Room that Explodes,’

Brooke ~

~ http://www.fanfiction.net/u/2537728/snapemartyr (Harry Potter fanfiction)

~ http://brookeslifeslices.blogspot.com/ (Blogsite)

~ E-mail: bfox@my.madonna.edu