27 September 2021

HR: None

In truth I had no idea how to begin my literacy narrative essay. When the assignment was announced and we were told the prescribed readings would be our sources, I was lost in the very concept of the paper, let alone how to tie in the various messages of each author. The writing process did not begin with any organizers or prewriting. The piece formed as I wrote. It was the Sunday before a first draft was due at an overpopulated Abigail Inn that the soul of the essay was born. It was like an impromptu visit to a foreign city or attending one’s first bachelor party – there was no direction or expectation to uphold; every step of the journey was flying by the seat of my pants, drawing out my path with the pen. I was in uncharted territory, as I have never thought deeply into where my literacies developed and who to credit for them until now. I have always acknowledged how influential certain figures have been in my life, or how my childhood has affected my personality, but never to the extent of how and why I write. Stretching out across a couch in the upstairs den of the Inn, I lay typing out what is effectively a life story, working to connotate every word with how writing has and does make me feel. The unconventional approach I took in doing so revealed to me how much more than just simply the jokes I make or the words I use that can only be appropriately described as “extra;” the spilling of my brainstorm-like writing on to a Word document in a relaxed environment to the tune of a Brother Rat’s piano playing: that is my recipe for success. This is where creativity lives.