This is the end of everything...
I started a class at UCSD on writing for newspapers and magazines. I figured that it will help me get into the practice of writing -- something I missed during my biology career at U of C. Now, I've made a pact to post something everyday, even if it's crap. For this first post, I've decided to write about the class itself.
First off, my instructor looks like Eric Idle. And not young Eric Idle from the Monty Python days. He looks like old, womanish Eric Idle from today. Exactly like him. Well, not exactly like him. He wore suede cowboy boots and a green shirt with a paisley tie. He seems cool enough. For this first session, he didn't really say anything I didn't already know. That's ok, though -- I'm mostly in it to practice writing, and I'm sure I'll learn a lot eventually.
The class itself is made up of a ratio of two females to each male. Apparently, journalism is a very girly field. Each student is infinitely more qualified than I am. Most have had some sort of experience freelancing their work. I thought I'd be the dark horse of the group, coming up with the most brilliant and original work of the lot. Sadly, that wasn't to be.
As I said earlier, I didn't really learn all that much new stuff in this first class. I'm looking over my notes, and they seem a bit thin. I do know that when the instructor said, "The first step to becoming a better writer is to read", exactly five people copied it down. Four wrote down the second step.
That made it all the more bitter when, in our first exercise -- to pair off and interview our partners and then write up a brief profile on him/her -- I turned in a pithy four sentences of crap as opposed to the pages everyone else wrote. It wasn't for lack of interesting material either. I was able to wheedle a wealth of juicy information from my hesitant partner's past: credit card fraud schemes, marauding teenaged hacker-gangs, etc. I just couldn't get past figuring out how to start writing the damned thing.
Normally I'd take comfort in knowing that I only had twenty-five minutes to write, that with more time, I could've come up with a compelling feature. However, Columbia requires each applicant to take a timed writing test in addition to writing the standard essays. With my history of choking under pressure (i.e. the laughable GRE essay of '04), things look bleak. Thus, the renewed dedication to the blog. I'm going to use this space to practice writing every day. This site is going to become intensely boring, as I'm going to be writing even when nothing has happened. In fact, for the hell of it, occasionally I'm going to blog on a time limit: thirty minutes to post a complete entry on a random, general topic, let's say, mebbe once a week.
Joy to the world.
p.s. I'm thinking of removing sitemeter from this blog. It's unhealthy for me. Anybody know where I can find a simple counter without extra spying features?
First off, my instructor looks like Eric Idle. And not young Eric Idle from the Monty Python days. He looks like old, womanish Eric Idle from today. Exactly like him. Well, not exactly like him. He wore suede cowboy boots and a green shirt with a paisley tie. He seems cool enough. For this first session, he didn't really say anything I didn't already know. That's ok, though -- I'm mostly in it to practice writing, and I'm sure I'll learn a lot eventually.
The class itself is made up of a ratio of two females to each male. Apparently, journalism is a very girly field. Each student is infinitely more qualified than I am. Most have had some sort of experience freelancing their work. I thought I'd be the dark horse of the group, coming up with the most brilliant and original work of the lot. Sadly, that wasn't to be.
As I said earlier, I didn't really learn all that much new stuff in this first class. I'm looking over my notes, and they seem a bit thin. I do know that when the instructor said, "The first step to becoming a better writer is to read", exactly five people copied it down. Four wrote down the second step.
That made it all the more bitter when, in our first exercise -- to pair off and interview our partners and then write up a brief profile on him/her -- I turned in a pithy four sentences of crap as opposed to the pages everyone else wrote. It wasn't for lack of interesting material either. I was able to wheedle a wealth of juicy information from my hesitant partner's past: credit card fraud schemes, marauding teenaged hacker-gangs, etc. I just couldn't get past figuring out how to start writing the damned thing.
Normally I'd take comfort in knowing that I only had twenty-five minutes to write, that with more time, I could've come up with a compelling feature. However, Columbia requires each applicant to take a timed writing test in addition to writing the standard essays. With my history of choking under pressure (i.e. the laughable GRE essay of '04), things look bleak. Thus, the renewed dedication to the blog. I'm going to use this space to practice writing every day. This site is going to become intensely boring, as I'm going to be writing even when nothing has happened. In fact, for the hell of it, occasionally I'm going to blog on a time limit: thirty minutes to post a complete entry on a random, general topic, let's say, mebbe once a week.
Joy to the world.
p.s. I'm thinking of removing sitemeter from this blog. It's unhealthy for me. Anybody know where I can find a simple counter without extra spying features?
posted by Skim at Saturday, April 08, 2006
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