(Disclosure: I wrote this at an ungodly hour last night but didn’t publish for search engine optimization reasons.)
I have a big paper due in two days (actually, 42 hours and counting) and someone – I’m terribly sorry to whoever among the many people I have ranted to I seem to have forgotten – gave me this excessively appropriate metaphor for my experience with writing it.
She or he said “so you just haven’t given birth to it yet,” after listening to where I was at in the excruciating stages of my writing process. No. I have not. And while the phrasing made me wince a bit, it totally makes sense.
That is exactly how I work, in a nutshell. My mom has a term for this behavior of mine, in all situations, not just writing: “nesting.” It’s really embarrassing. When I go on vacation, or anywhere, I can’t just, like, drop my stuff off in my room and be on with it. I have to unpack everything. And now I have to continue this digression to explain myself: I don’t mean that I must take advantage of any hotel storage or furniture or set up camp in my friends’ homes, but I absolutely do have to take inventory of all of my things and re-organize them according to my known and future plans. I’m not crazy, I swear it.
But, um, anyway. I’m hoping that with this paper (which does require explicit detailing of its research and sourcing), the “crazy,” written, highlighted and sometimes scribbled all over my work, works for me.
That is, I hope that the fact that I have an absurd obsession with preparation positively influences my grade.
And it should. Because my paper is (partially, ultimately) about the process of creating a story. Particularly, it focuses on the digital manifestation of the story and suggests how online platforms can be mechanisms for creating a more enriched, representative, layered picture of the truth. It’s exciting.
Alright, so this was the first push Nope. In creative reflection, I choose to refuse to take it there (aha—you see what I did there? Eh?) But, I will say this: the crib has been purchased, the walls are painted, rearing books read, OK that’s enough.
I’m ready to write this thing.