My Writing Habits

As I was reading my essay to a colleague, once again I felt the sudden familiar rush of shame coming over me. For the longest time speaking English to or around my classmates has been making me feel uneasy and by now it has become something to be expected. Consistency rather than contigency. Ever since I was in elementary school I would keep quiet during English class so as not to attract the attention of the teacher and run the risk of having to say something. The act of reading my writing aloud to a colleague didn’t particularly change my opinion or feelings about it, but that could be due to the fact that over time I have learned to distance myself from what I am reading, as if it were someone else performing the act of reciting the text,

But if anything, I do at least try to introduce some playfulness into my work. Vary the length of the sentences. Pad out this one, pare down another. Find a suitable turn of phrase. It is a habit I picked up from reading and writing poetry, one that can unexpectedly come in handy in all sorts of situations. A good text has to flow, it has to have a rhythm to it. I always refer to a quote by Borges as the golden rule of writing: “Poetry always remembers that it was an oral art before it was a written art. It remembers that it was first song.” Whether I am successful in this endeavor or not, it is not up to me to decide, but there is always more work to be done. For instance, as I was reading to my colleague, I realized — or rather, I was painfully reminded once again — that I should read and write more in English. Read and write more in general, but in English, too. That way, my language would become more idiomatic, more natural, and I would have a sounder grasp of different registers, making it easier for me to adapt my expression and tone