Graduate Research

Thursday, July 21, 2005

Schwartz, Mimi. Wearing the Shoe on the Other Foot. Creative Writing in America.

I loved this chapter, as it focuses on what I hope to make my dissertation about: the differences between composition and creaive w riting. Schwartz speaks of her experiences when she returned to the classroom as a "student writer -- and a novice at that. For although I'd been teaching and writing nonfiction for years, both academic articles and feature stories, I had never written much fiction. And although I dabbled in poetry, even had a few poems published once, I never before took a course in poetry writing. Frankly, I didn't have the guts in college -- never thought of myself as creative enough to risk such public exposure" (195). Here we see how students might be intimidated simply by the term "creative" writing -- because we might not know what creative depths or tendencies we have. I think most students are more confident of composition than they are being creative -- as though composition can be easily taught and contained, but being creative cannot.

Schwartz took two undergraduate creative writing courses at Princeton, with novelist Russell Banks and poet Carolyn Kizer: "The experience also provided insight into some unexpected differences between 'creative' and expository writing on the college campus ... First was the astonishing power of response either to encourage or undermine creative risk-taking ... when the material is experimental and new emotionally, intellectually, or schematically, then even seasoned writers can lose their ability to assess the value of their work. The greater the risk-taking, the greater the uncertainty -- and the more vulnerable the ego to outside response" (196).

Again, the emphasis here is that the creative is connected to risk, and it is seen by Schwartz that composition is not. While I don't always agree with this, I have to admit that composition can sometimes feel like there is a "form" to hold to. Also, creative writing can feel like it comes more from the heart, although in composition classes I often have students write about their relationships, their social structures, the issues they have in groups. This is because of the composition pedagogy I was taught, and I'm probably married to it just because of its creative aspects. And I don't like teaching "academic" writing as much if only because of the emphasis on MLA or APA format, because it's "formatting", a strict guide on how to do things. In fact, I wonder if the emphasis on citation put in traditional composition classes is one of the reasons why composition is so differentiated from creative writing classes.

Composition classes, if not structured correctly, can put too much emphasis on the final product, rather than the creation of an idea and the planning that goes behind it. Schwartz liked her creative writing experience because the writing turned into class was considered for "that ideal, yet-to-be-named text which, to use Kizer's own metaphor, is still being born.' " (197). Again, there might not be a clear thesis to a creative work when it is first drafted; the writer might still be realizing it. However, compositionists are asked to have a clear focus or thesis before drafting a final work.

The downside to critiquing creative writing is that a teacher might be drawn to what appeals to him, and could misjudge a work simply because it is not to his reading tastes. Schwartz admits that this happened to her when she critiqued a fellow, although younger, student's work, which she said Banks' reacted well to: "It shows how careful you need to be when reading outside of one's tastes. If this were my student, I would have given him bad feedback because of my preference for more emotionally serious work" (198). And I feel this is true for many creative writing professors; some disdain a certain genre, or commercial writing, and this can greatlly affect a promising student's ego and confidence.

Also, if students find out what kind of writing you prefer, they might try to write that way just for a good grade, rather than concentrating on the creative process. For instance, last semester many of my students found out i have a penchant for comedy; soon they were all trying to be humorous, even after I told them I liked serious work as well. A colleague of mine likes sex in writing, and I was told that he required all of his students to write stories with sex in them; I can imagine how uncomfortable that might be for someone who doesn't like that type of writing at all.

Composition, no matter how we emphasize as educators that the process can be creative, can still feel like we need to follow some form: "The choice of short, simple sentences to avoid the danger of run-ons, and the lifeless, five-paragraph themes that give up voice to insert a thesis statement are by-products of what happens when the desire to follow rules overpowers natural expression" (199). I know that I try hard to get my students to NOT insert a thesis statement into their compositions right away, but they've been taught this so much that's it's hard to wean them off the five-paragraph form. And I worry, when I teach them not to do this, if it will make their projects in other classes suffer a final grade because other professors are used to, and even like, this form. It's easy to grade and understand, but lacks creativity.

The study of both composition and creative writing has its benefits: "One final surprise was the impact of fiction and poetry writing on my writing in general. Writing in one role definitely influeneced my expression in other roles. Several poems became more conversational, with longer line lengths, as a result of the fiction writing. A few stories, on the other hand, became more lyrical, with richer imagery, as a result of writing poetry. Some of these innovations worked, some not; but either way, using new forms, experimenting with new genres, expanded my repetoire and confidence for expression; I took more risks, tried out more new options -- both consciously and intuitively -- than I had in years" (203).

So I think students need exposure to many types of genres if they want to become a successful writer. Sometimes it has its drawbacks for me -- I once had an article rejected from a collection because it was too "creative" although the research had clearly been done -- and I feel this was because the academic judging it had no exposure to how the different types of writing styles can meld to turn out a greater piece of writing. Even in this book, I have to say it's been tons more useful for me simply because its tone has been more creative than academic; I don't have to sort through a bunch of jargon to get to the gist of each essay.