Wednesday, Jan. 25, 2012

Breaking through writer's block

Irony: the inevitable companion to parenthood. Tyler, my 8-year-old son, is not writing, not wanting to write and not understanding how to write.

His third-grade teacher is trying hard with him, but he's digging in his heels. He's scared. Where to start? What comes next? What if it's not good enough? Like a lot of would-be writers of any age, he's paralyzed by fear.

His class is working on the five-paragraph structure: introduction, three paragraphs in the middle and a conclusion. Bam! It's just a formula.

There's some debate in the writing community as to whether such structured attempts stifle creativity. But teachers don't have the luxury of debate. They're charged with getting it done.

I decided I might as well roll up my sleeves and jump in. There are a lot of things I'll never be able to teach my son - guitar, karate, tennis, chemistry, physics, calculus, lawn-mowing - but maybe I can teach him to conquer his fear of writing.

I decided we'd have an adventure and then write about it. He loves going to Crabtree Valley Mall, so off we went. I made a deal with him. He got to be the leader, and our task was to find the three best stores at the mall.

The adventure part went fine. But when it came time to write, boy, did he try to get out of it.

First, he was angry. "We had a deal," I said. Next came tears, followed by self-flagellation, a lovely combination. I was not wavering. I'd been to the Lego Store the day after New Year's. He owed me. I handed him the tissue box. The whole thing reminded me of learning my multiplication tables at the dining room table with my dad. It was horrible. And I couldn't leave until I was finished.

But I learned them. And I still know them. Nine times seven is 63. See?

"Cry if you need to. It's OK. We have all day," I said, which made him cry even harder.

"I'm terrible at this! I'm stupid! Where do I even start?" he wailed. Actually, that was a good question. I suggested he start with a question. "Like, 'Have you ever been to Crabtree Valley Mall?' "

"Use short sentences," I said. "Write like you talk." Maybe not the best advice for a college or high school student, but my main goal was to get an 8-year-old to put his thoughts to paper.

He drew a lot of blanks.

I told him to pretend he was talking to a friend. "What would you tell a friend about why you like the Lego Store?" I asked. He quickly named off three things. "Now, just write, 'I like the Lego Store because it has...' and fill in the blanks with what you just told me."

I'm not saying it was easy or fun, but the five-paragraph essay is a formula, and if he can learn that formula, he'll use it all the way through college. Of course, there will be a lot of fine tuning along the way, but at this point, any sentence is better than no sentence. I told him teaching this was the best gift I could give him. I ignored his snort.

The formula is easy. In your introduction, mention your three points. Then, each point is a paragraph with a little detail. Finally, your conclusion is basically a recap of the introduction; I call that last paragraph a "gimme." That's it.

And that's how I want him - and every kid - to think about writing. Like it's no big deal putting some words on the page. Oh, this again; I've done this. Because once they relax, that's when they'll get good at writing - even creative. But if that fear wins out? Well, every time they have to write a presentation or an email or a proposal, that old fear will be there, laying waste to good ideas simply because they never made it to the page.

Most kids will never want to be writers, but every kid needs to know how to write well.