Short Writing Assignment #1

Fairy tales vs. OTCs

When I reflect on both my best and worst writing experiences, two vivid memories come to mind. The first, I am standing in front of thirty-two pairs of attentive and interested eyes in a 5^th grade English classroom as I read aloud from my paper, mimicking an old wizard's raspy voice. The second, I am staring with bloodshot eyes at the clock above my kitchen table, which reads 1:28 am, as I frantically check the word count in my Microsoft word document after each time I hit the period button. Although one of these academic events occurred eight years ago while the other just last summer, both are as clear and memorable as if they happened just this week. One I remember as the most fun and enjoyment I have ever received from writing, the other as a dreadful, exhausting, and tasteless chore.

My fifth grade Language Arts teacher assigned my class a writing exercise at the beginning of the new school year. To practice our writing skills, we each had to write a short story, inspired by an assigned picture. Then, we would each narrate our story in front of our classmates. My picture depicted a boy asleep in bed, while three lights hovered near his open window. I began to write my own fairy tale of a boy, kidnapped from the comfort of his bed by three spunky fairies, and led to a fantasy world plagued by a enormous violent dragon. When I came home from school, I rushed to my computer to type away the tale of Archie the dragon slayer, harnessing all my pent-up imaginations. The writing exercise provided an outlet for me to use my creative and let my imagination take form, and it was a project I was passionate about. Even better, I had an interested audience. I could not wait to perform my masterpiece for my classmates, using different voices for each character, such as a high-pitched whisper for Trixie the Fairy and an angry dragon's roar. My teacher and classmates applauded not only my literature, but also my performance, making the fantasy story all the more special for me.

On the other hand, the International Baccalaureate Program did not applaud my much more recent Extended Essay on the effects frequent over-the-counter drug use on the human brain's cognition. My relationship with the Extended Essay, assigned for the summer between my junior and senior year of high school, can be summarized in one four letter word: hate. I hated the fact that I was intimidated by the sheer length requirements of the essay, hated the topic I had chosen myself to research, hated the lack of research I could come up with, and hated that it was ruining my summer and my sleep pattern. Although I had nearly seven pages to fill with writing, not once did I apply my creativity or use one bit of passion. I had no significant audience and no interest in what I was writing. I did not utilize any form of planning or time management either, the majority of my paper was written in the very few days left of summer. A combination of irresponsibility on my part, pure lack of interest, and raging frustration with myself and my writing led to the disaster that was my high school Extended Essay.

Although both writing assignments are stored permanently is my long term memory, the one that is more clear and more important to me is not the most recent. Rather, it is sitting at my computer in my 5^th grade school uniform, slaving over Archie and his fairy dragon-fighter friends. How much I enjoyed creating and sharing one of my first pieces of writing will remind me of the power of words and sentences, and how I can utilize my creativity and passion in any writing that I choose to.