Narrative Essay
Well Here we are. The reflection. This one was fun!
Let's start with my audience and purpose. And Oh boy. Do I struggle with audience. My audience for this was mainly myself, and whoever would like to read it. Demographic wise I was aiming for those who also enjoy symbolism and struggle in their literature, but because this started as a one off idea drabble it never had an intended audience. It's purpose was to create and for me to test my skills, that was my main goal. Purpose when being read? I'm not entirely sure. I wanted the reader to feel the weight and mourning, but also the light of recovery. I guess it's purpose was to reflect on the hardships people may face. On the other hand, generating ideas was easy. I have so many of them. The struggle is always turning Ideas into useable thread to weave a story with. I could write stories all day given the freedom to do so. I find the stories the way kids do cool rocks when sifting through sand. Actually writing the draft was a breeze as well. It was nice, to sit down and write something original for the first time in ages. Revisiting It wasn't hard either. With the feedback I felt ready to improve. I was excited actually, and began work on that before we even were assigned revisions. I got a small glimpse into a view I typically struggle to see and had the weak points highlighted for me rather than me stumbling blindly through trying to improve it on my own.
Impact Essay
Trying to write this website, specifically relative to the impact essay, has left me chanting a matra of "I will not swear. I will not swear" if that gives you any inkling of how I might feel about this one.
The audience always comes easy in impact essays, the audience is high school regulations for grading. Even if that's changed, that is always how I will percieve it. It's why these essays are so souless. Theres no reader, only a grade. The purpose is always much of the same. Always to inform or convince. Writing in a vacuum without the real impact of knowing your work will be read. Of course it will be read, it's for a grade. You don't have to interact with an actual world outside that ink. Generating ideas as usual isn't a struggle, its having them be useable. Fitting a inkblot painting of thoughts into a neat cube. It doesn't always fit nicely. I don't like shaving off edges to fit the mold. Writing the draft was mind numbing and painful. Writing just to get it done. At first it was almost fun, till I learned my limitations. I love to inform and write, but not like this. Revising the draft wasn't much better. It was the annoyance that comes with knowing you could've done better but just can't. Being told to run a race then getting held back on a leash. I did what I needed to get the grade. Cut down my ideas until it was good enough. I'm not proud of this essay and that is what makes me angry. I should be better than this.