Draft of reflective essay
I used to keep a journal way back when. Back in the days when there seemed to be a lot going on in my life and I was less capable of dealing with it. I had to write, I thought, to vent and release all these nasty little feelings I would be stuck with otherwise because I could never tell another soul about them. These writings were often terribly dramatic and therefore, in retrospect, disingenuous. I had grown into the habit of writing things and making sure it was as sensational as I could for risk that it would otherwise be boring to look back on and read. I thought it was the most personal writing I could muster until I took this course. Creative nonfiction taught me what personal writing really was.
I learned that truly writing about oneself meant feeling awkward
No comments:
Post a Comment