is mind traveling, destination unknown. – Writers’ Inc.
I never thought of myself of a writer; lazybones that I am, I prefer to read thingsÂ other peopleÂ have already sweated agonized overÂ written, neatly laid out on yellowing pages of second hand books that I scrounge, beg or borrow.
I write only whenÂ I have to. Like papers, critiques, lecture notes, report crib sheets, lesson plans, observations, FLA/SLA research, ad nauseum… plusÂ the hastily scribbled please!-wake-me-up-notes, to-do-lists, grocery lists, library book lists, checklists, deadlines, and do-not-touch-this-food-package-or-else-the-owner-will-eat-you-instead threats.Â Â
Writing for me is a chore, as enjoyable as getting an impacted wisdom tooth extracted. But five years of blogging and ten years of journal writing seem to prove me wrong.Â I must find some joy and some meaning to continue doing it for years, without anyone coercing me to. And yes… I do find joy and meaning each time I see my thoughts rendered in print, in a more or less orderly fashion (usually less ;-P).
What is writing for? I found myself nodding, not due to sleepiness, but in agreement all throughout our class yesterday on teaching writing skills for second language learners. Writing is important because it is a means of self expression and itÂ develops critical thinking. Check on the former, wait-a-minute! on the latter idea.
So I continues toÂ overrun another page, finish another paper, post another blog. And quite a grand journey it is. =)