Our professor tried to teach us how to write by using a hands-on metaphor. We were given a few beads and a piece of string. We were told that the beads represented body paragraphs and the string represented a thesis. Then, we had to “plunk” the beads on our desk. Unsurprisingly, most of us were confused as to what “plunking” something entailed, so she demonstrated. Words can only go so far, and the more I study literature, the more I realize this. The silliness of our language is astonishing. Percival Everett’s works seem to embrace this concept and I suppose that’s what makes them entertaining to me. Anyway, the purpose of the “plunk” was to illustrate how the beads just go everywhere when bounced against a wall. To prevent this, one must string the beads as one strings together an essay around a claim. So, we proceeded to create a lovely necklace.
That’s when I dropped the beads…twice.
I’ve never been that good at arts and crafts due to my shaky hands. Don’t ask me why I have shaky hands, I just do. It’s not so much the literal dropping of the beads…twice…that annoyed, frustrated, and/or scared me, it’s what that meant when following the metaphor. As soon as those beads hit the ground, it reinforced my doubts as to what I’m even doing here. Undoubtedly, college is picking up. The academic and social aspects of my life are creating obligations that, frankly, I’m not meeting. Being stressed is a choice, but it doesn’t feel like it.
Whenever I sit down to write something, I find that I’m not enjoying the process. In fact, I dread it. I get so caught up in editing that I become mentally paralyzed and forget or confuse my ideas. I suppose I’m so focused on the minutiae because I think that’s what makes writing exceptional. Certainly, diction, syntax, and punctuation are important but what you are writing about should be the focus. Reading Percival Everett’s works has actually helped me realize that, when writing, one doesn’t need to be so careful. A prime example of this is the poem “Zulus”. Although it’s a pretty abecedarian concept, I don’t think that the average reader comprehends every allusion on the first read, and I don’t think that Everett expects that either. He purposely wrote a confusing and convoluted poem because he wanted the reader to think for themselves.
And that’s what we did. Each of us created our own poem modeled after “Zulus”. For the first time in a long time, I just wrote. Once I pushed that verse out of my costive mind, I felt better. The practice reminded me of why I’m here studying English-to create something that helps others and myself.