Why write sonnets? To inspire creativity

I often have wondered why poets lock themselves into the constraints of certain poetic forms, particulary sonnets.  They are so hard to write, yet the best poets have done so, from Shakespeare to Robert Frost.  Consider the difficulties imposed by the Shakespearean sonnet:

  • The sonnet must have 14 lines.
  • Those 14 lines must be divided into two or three parts: the first part is always 8 lines and the second part is either 6 lines or a combination of 4 lines plus a final couplet.
  • A sonnet must follow a rigorous rhyme pattern: a b a b, c d c d, e f e f, g g.
  • Each line of the sonnet must have ten beats.
  • For each of line, the second, fourth, sixth, eighth and tenth beat must be stressed (iambic pentameter).
  • In the first 8 lines the poet states a problem or a situation; in the second four lines the poet offers a solution or a different perspective; and in the final couplet, if there is one, the poet offers a surprise.

Phew!  Why would any writer box himself in to such a strict format?

It has to do with creativity.  Research has shown that real breakthroughs in creativity occur right after the poet / thinker is stumped and gives up.  It’s too hard!  I can’t do this!  I give up.  And then the poet sleeps on it or drinks on it or walks his dog and voila!  Out of nowhere (it seems) comes the solution, and not just any solution but the perfect solution.  This is that lightbulb moment depicted in cartoons.

Problem leads to frustration leads to giving up leads to subconscious making connections leads to eureka.

With a devilish form like the sonnet, the poet is forced to turn his brains inside and out, churning outrageous ideas before the answer sneaks up, seemingly out of the blue.  Without the difficulty of the sonnet form, the mastery of language, rhythm, rhyme and idea would not fuse into a gorgeous whole.

And that is why poets write sonnets.

When a student writes one or more paragraphs which don’t belong and need to be cut, what is the best approach?

The student has put time and effort into his writing, but part of that writing doesn’t work.

Child writing

  • Maybe it’s irrelevant information. The child has lost his focus and is heading down an interesting but off-topic route.  You can see this, but he can’t.
  • Maybe the words repeat. The child says the same idea he already said  and the repetition is not needed.
  • Maybe the sentences are something the student needs to write to get going. (I woke up in the morning and then I went to the bathroom and then I got dressed and ate breakfast, and we got on the plane and we flew to Las Vegas.  Ah Las Vegas!)  Everything that happens getting to Las Vegas has to be written by the student in order to start her writing, but it’s not what the essay is about and needs to be cut.

 

How does a teacher or parent show that words need to be cut without breaking the child’s heart?  Here’s my approach.

  • First I ask the student to read his writing aloud. I might ask him to show me where the “off topic” section is on his prewriting organizer.  He might notice it’s not there.  I say that I think the reason it’s not there is because it’s not  what he planned to focus on.  My goal here is to get the student to agree with my analysis.
  • I suggest that certain sentences probably should be saved for another essay. By saying they should be saved, I am allowing the student to save face as well as to think that all his work has not been in vain.  Usually the student says nothing.  Then I lightly, with a regular pencil, draw a big box around the words which I think should be removed, explaining what I am doing.  I do not cross out the words.  I don’t draw the box in ink or even in dark pencil.  I make it all seem tentative at first and able to be erased if the student disagrees.  My goal is to gain the student’s trust but not to force him to delete.
  • Next I ask the student to read the parts not boxed and see if they work without the boxed parts. Usually they do, but sometimes transitions might be needed.  If the box is the beginning of the essay, sometimes a new introduction needs to be written.  I ask the student to verbally say how the remaining parts can be connected if we leave out the boxed parts.  Usually the student has good ideas.  Usually he writes the new parts or the transitions between the lines or in the margins.
  • It’s important to evaluate the student’s body language through this process.  If he becomes a stone, or if he is barely able to talk, don’t press him.  Sometimes I say, let’s think about this until next lesson, okay?  And then I move the paper away and go to a different part of the lesson–a BINGO vocabulary review, for example.  My goal here is to maintain the student’s trust and to give him time to adjust his thinking.
  •  At the end of the lesson the box is still there, untouched.  The boxed writing is the student’s writing and he or she must decide whether it  stays or goes.

Did you ever see the film, All the President’s Men?  One reporter grabs the copy of another reporter and revises it without permission.  The original writer of the copy goes ballistic.  It’s the same thing when a teacher or parent changes a child’s copy without the child’s permission.  We need to respect the child and give him or her time to come around to our way of thinking.  And sometimes the child doesn’t.  That’s okay too.

 

Is it okay to break the rules?

Children ask me this all the time.

  • They read a story in which the writer starts a sentence with “because,” something they have been forbidden to do. “So why can’t I start a sentence that way?”

EPSON MFP image

  • They read a conversation in which someone uses the word “gonna.” “So why can’t I do that?”
  • Their teachers tell them every paragraph needs five sentences and every essay needs five paragraphs. But I show them editorials or columns from newspapers which don’t follow these rules.  “So why can’t I do thatt?”
  • They (used to) learn cursive, but they’d see an adult’s signature composed of part cursive, part printing, and part illegible writing. “So why can’t I do that?”

We adults break the rules of writing all the time.  Using bullets, as I did above, is technically breaking the rules of paragraphing, yet bullets add white space and show a pattern of thought.  Bulleted items are usually short and easy to read.  They invite reading the way denser paragraphs do not.  Why not break the paragraphing rules if more people will read what we write and the writing is clear?

With children I suggest the following line of thinking about “rules” of writing.

  • Will I get in trouble if I break the rule? Usually, this means, Will my teacher lower my grade if I break the rule?  If the answer is yes, then follow the rule unless you have a mighty good reason not to and are willing to accept a lower grade.
  • Is your writing easier to understand if you break the rule? If the answer is yes, then break the rule.  Clarity outranks any stylistic tradition.  But usually rules were invented to add clarity.
  • Are you experimenting? If so, follow rules which make sense and ignore rules which inhibit your imagination.

Some of you might say that my “line of thinking” above is really a set of rules.  Yes, they offer guidance the way rules do.  But no, they are not hard and fast, and they allow the writer to choose his own rules as long as he can live with the consequences, the way adults do.

 

 

Cursive makes a Southern comeback

As the 2016-17 opens, Alabama joins Florida and North Carolina in mandating by law that students learn cursive writing.Cursive alphabet

Alabama’s teachers must instruct third graders in cursive under a law that goes into effect this school year.  Although Alabama law previously required the teaching of cursive, the new law requires teachers to report students’ proficiency levels to the state at the end of third grade. Formerly, students needed to be proficient by the end of fifth grade.

Implemented in the 2012-13 school year, North Carolina has a law stating that “Public schools [shall] provide instruction in cursive writing, so students create readable documents through legible cursive handwriting by the end of fifth grade.”

Florida implemented its own standard, requiring cursive writing to be taught in third grade in public elementary school classes.

Which cursive will these students use?  Over the years, the type of cursive used by American students has become simplified and for some letters, similar to printing.  For example, the capital Q, which in old cursive looked like a loopy numeral 2, has been changed at the request of the US Postal Service.  The new Q looks more like a printed Q and less like the number 2.  The new capital K, P, R, and T look almost identical to the printed forms of those letters.

With fewer loops, the New American Cursive is quick to write, easier to read, and cleaner in look than the older versions of cursive.  An extreme slant of the letters has been replaced with a slight slant to the right, making the new cursive easier for left-handed students.

For more information on the new cursive, go to www.newamericancursive.com.

How to encourage the addition of more details by students

Sometimes students balk at writing more details when they have finished their first drafts.  They think they have already included plenty of details when more details would enhance the writing.

To encourage the student to write more details, on a separate piece of paper I rewrite one of the student’s sentences needing more details and suggest we go back and forth–first me, then the student–adding details.  Here are some examples.

The student originally writes, “We walked back to the pool.”  I add, “In our flipflops and bathing suits,” to the beginning of that sentence.  “Well, of course we wore our bathing suits,” says my student, so he crosses out “and our bathing suits.”  But he adds, “In our flipflops we walked to the outside pool entrance.

Another sentence the student originally writes is, “My cousin, Johnny, picked up a glass and cut his fingers.”  This time the student starts the additions by adding “soda” to “glass.”  I ask which fingers.  He crosses out “fingers” and adds “thumb and index finger.”  But then without my asking him to, he continues. “My cousin, Johnny, picked up a soda glass and cut his thumb and index fingers.  You could see the fat and blood.  My uncle drove him in a taxi to the hospital emergency room.  My uncle sent a picture to my aunt, showing Johnny doing a pose in his bandage.”  What a difference!

Another sentence my student writes is, “We walked to the gift shop.” Before I could add details, he added “to get rocky road ice cream because it was 100 degrees F.

Why did this exercise work?  By pulling the sentences out of the student’s own work and isolating them, it was easy for the student to see the plainness of the sentences.  By my offering to write some of the additional phrases, the work seemed more like a game, and he was willing to play along.

Were we working on a computer, we could have swiped the new sentences and replaced the plainer ones, making the work even easier.