1) Read a lot. By reading, you'll be able to observe the different kinds of writing styles of different authors. Then you can try to copy some of their styles at first until you're ready to have a style of your own.
2) Keep a journal of whatever you write. It doesn't matter if at first you'll commit a lot of grammatical errors. What matters is you have the intention to improve and seek help from those whom you think can help you improve.
3) Learn a new word everyday and use it in a sentence. You may use the word by writing a sentence on a piece of paper or by conversing with someone.
4) Expose yourself to different styles of writing. Try not to limit your taste to what you have been stuck with for years. If you're into romance novels, try non-fiction for a change. If you're into comedy, try a history book. If you've been reading Abante or Hustler for years, check out the Wall Street Journal or Time to keep that libido in place and not go awry.
5) Improve your grammar in cyberspace by checking out sites regarding English or whatever language you use to write. Test yourself by reading the posts of members in a board and try to see if you can spot an error. Keep your criticisms to yourself if you want to avoid the wrath of the entire forum community.
6) Be your own worst critic. If you've just finished writing an essay, read and re-read then re-read all the sentences that you've written. Edit more than once because as Jacqueline Susann's book title goes, Once is not Enough. Or as my favorite writing motto goes, "Write in white heat; revise in cold blood."
7) Start a collection of grammar books and writing manuals. Based on the experts, you would know whether Charles' or Charles's is right; whether '90s or 90s or even 90's is correct or whether Dear Sir/Madam or Dear Gentlemen is apt.
8) Attend writing workshops or seminars. If you have extra moolah, then go ahead and register in the workshops held in Intramuros in Manila or even Ayala in Makati. However, make sure that the one conducting the workshop/seminar is not just a good writer but a good speaker and a good teacher as well. Unfortunately, not all award-winners convey their writing tips well when they speak before an audience. Some of them are better read than heard. If that's the case, the money you spent wouldn't be worth it. You should've chosen a freebie workshop/seminar instead.
9) Have another pair of eyes examine your written product. In that way, you'll know if the product of your imagination is a *MASTERPIECE or a **MONSTERPIECE.
*MASTERPIECE - a finished piece of literature that's gained you some reputation (not necessarily a Palanca award)
**MONSTERPIECE - a finished piece of litterture for clueless wannabe writers who hate listening to the advice of someone who has created a masterpiece
10) Swap written articles with a friend. You can blast each other's works for fun or praise them to boost both your egos. Ahihihi.
11) Network with other writers or would-be writers. In this way, you can gain different insights and be exposed to different forms and styles of writing. You would know what works and what sucks, what hits and what bombs. Try to meet other writers or would-be writers in public places like restaurants. You can always proofread the menu cards and look for misspelled words or wrong grammar. Ahihihi.
12) Join and register in http://laboratoryo.invisionplus.net
*On a personal note, when I feel that my alphabetical muses have been buried alive in the literary graveyard, I would pry open their coffins by reading aloud funny grammar books or reciting Woody Allen gems. Ideas would suddenly gush out until I couldn't control them anymore. Then I wind up staying in my room and convincing myself not to write any more writing tips.
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Saturday, September 15, 2007
The Why's of Pen Pal Writing
by The Greek Wallflower (a.k.a. moi)
(originally written way back in the 80s before the advent of the internet)
1) To avoid if not totally eradicate the creeping epidemic called boredom
2) To seek refuge from your allergy, that is, school/work
3) To exchange pleasantries and may be insults with faceless if not nameless creatures
4) To let other people know how wide your vocabulary is
5) To discover someone out there who can match your wit and humor ... if ever you have them
6) To practice your talents in creative writing and avoid plagiarism
7) To let other people talk about themselves ... when you want to talk about yourself
8) To actually use the countless boxes of hoarded stationery since grade school
9) To keep yourself from jumping off any tall skyscraper when you're feeling really morose.
10) To look for a lifetime partner ... if you're that desperate.
Ahihihi.
(originally written way back in the 80s before the advent of the internet)
1) To avoid if not totally eradicate the creeping epidemic called boredom
2) To seek refuge from your allergy, that is, school/work
3) To exchange pleasantries and may be insults with faceless if not nameless creatures
4) To let other people know how wide your vocabulary is
5) To discover someone out there who can match your wit and humor ... if ever you have them
6) To practice your talents in creative writing and avoid plagiarism
7) To let other people talk about themselves ... when you want to talk about yourself
8) To actually use the countless boxes of hoarded stationery since grade school
9) To keep yourself from jumping off any tall skyscraper when you're feeling really morose.
10) To look for a lifetime partner ... if you're that desperate.
Ahihihi.
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Writing Then and Now
Writing means a lot to me. It's one of the few activities in which I can feel free and be myself. It doesn't matter if my output turns out to be a letter, an essay, a poem or just some crazy imprisoned thoughts wanting to be released from their confines. If I didn't write at least once or twice a week, I would feel incomplete...as if some part of me were missing. There are even times that I find myself itching and reaching for pen and paper at midnight when I should be on my way to Dreamland with or without Krueger-influenced dreams. I feel as if I have to write what's on my mind right at that moment, lest I forget the words in the morning.
It's funny though because when I was in grade school, I hated compositions. The dread of seeing my theme paper returned all covered with big red marks (circles, comments and grammatical corrections) was something I want buried in memory. I never got a grade higher than 85%.
There were three things that got me interested in writing. The first were high school journals in English. For us to hone whatever writing talent we had, our English teachers from sophomore to senior years requested us to keep a journal. In it, we could write whatever we wanted -- deep or shallow reflections, violent or controlled reactions, an even adolescent attempts at poetry. We could even accompany our essays and poems with drawings and pictures. Creativity was what they were trying to draw from us.
I enjoyed the exercise very much because of the informality. Because no one was dictating what to write and in what format, I felt at ease. I found myself taking the exercise seriously to the point of regarding my English journal as a personal diary. I remember writing about myself, my insecurities, my disappointments, my crushes, my fave bands and yes, even my pets. Teenage angst, in short. It was very cathartic.
Second was my sudden interest in reading whatever my hands could get a hold of. Mysteries, short stories, poems, labels, signs, ads and even the backs of milk cartons. The discovery of new words to add to my then meager vocabulary, and the idea of astounding and amazing classmates who had never read any book from cover to cover, spurred me on to write, to try them(new words) out for size, and yes, I humbly admit...to show off. I was very sarcastic.
Third was my being an outcast in class. I didn't have any body odor nor bad breath. I smelled okay -- My Mom said so. She wouldn't lie, would she? -- but my classmates never flocked to me nor did I light up their world when I came near them. The reason? I was not in their league. I was from the wrong side of the tracks. I was not from Ayala Alabang, nor was I from any of the plush villages near our school. I was from Alabang Gilid. "Who needs people like you when I have the twins, Pen and Paper, for company?", I thought. And that's when I began writing furiously -- day and night, noon and midnight, dusk or dawn. All the writing paid off when I surprisingly bagged the First Prize in a Poetry Writing Contest. It was very therapeutic.
Moving on to my college days, I still dabbled in the printed word. Writing weird essays in English 2, dissecting a classic novel in Literature, making a one-page personal reflection paper in Philosophy or handing in attempts at satirical feature articles for the school organ, excited me. On our Graduation Day, I received a Certificate of Recognition for Creative Writing as well as a Silver Medal for Campus Journalism. It seems that The One Above never forgot me for I always got rewards even when I wasn't expecting them. Now, I hope I'm not getting melodramatic.
It's been years since I graduated from college. Now that I'm back into writing but in a different venue and media, I hope I'll feel the way I did once in a writing class ... euphoric.
It's funny though because when I was in grade school, I hated compositions. The dread of seeing my theme paper returned all covered with big red marks (circles, comments and grammatical corrections) was something I want buried in memory. I never got a grade higher than 85%.
There were three things that got me interested in writing. The first were high school journals in English. For us to hone whatever writing talent we had, our English teachers from sophomore to senior years requested us to keep a journal. In it, we could write whatever we wanted -- deep or shallow reflections, violent or controlled reactions, an even adolescent attempts at poetry. We could even accompany our essays and poems with drawings and pictures. Creativity was what they were trying to draw from us.
I enjoyed the exercise very much because of the informality. Because no one was dictating what to write and in what format, I felt at ease. I found myself taking the exercise seriously to the point of regarding my English journal as a personal diary. I remember writing about myself, my insecurities, my disappointments, my crushes, my fave bands and yes, even my pets. Teenage angst, in short. It was very cathartic.
Second was my sudden interest in reading whatever my hands could get a hold of. Mysteries, short stories, poems, labels, signs, ads and even the backs of milk cartons. The discovery of new words to add to my then meager vocabulary, and the idea of astounding and amazing classmates who had never read any book from cover to cover, spurred me on to write, to try them(new words) out for size, and yes, I humbly admit...to show off. I was very sarcastic.
Third was my being an outcast in class. I didn't have any body odor nor bad breath. I smelled okay -- My Mom said so. She wouldn't lie, would she? -- but my classmates never flocked to me nor did I light up their world when I came near them. The reason? I was not in their league. I was from the wrong side of the tracks. I was not from Ayala Alabang, nor was I from any of the plush villages near our school. I was from Alabang Gilid. "Who needs people like you when I have the twins, Pen and Paper, for company?", I thought. And that's when I began writing furiously -- day and night, noon and midnight, dusk or dawn. All the writing paid off when I surprisingly bagged the First Prize in a Poetry Writing Contest. It was very therapeutic.
Moving on to my college days, I still dabbled in the printed word. Writing weird essays in English 2, dissecting a classic novel in Literature, making a one-page personal reflection paper in Philosophy or handing in attempts at satirical feature articles for the school organ, excited me. On our Graduation Day, I received a Certificate of Recognition for Creative Writing as well as a Silver Medal for Campus Journalism. It seems that The One Above never forgot me for I always got rewards even when I wasn't expecting them. Now, I hope I'm not getting melodramatic.
It's been years since I graduated from college. Now that I'm back into writing but in a different venue and media, I hope I'll feel the way I did once in a writing class ... euphoric.
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