January, the end of

January should be for reading.

I’ve got to write a response to Stephen King’s On Writing.  And another one on Write Beside Them, by Penny Kittle.  And one on Crafting Digital Writing, by Troy Hicks. 
Stephen King talks about what may have shaped him into being the writer he is … he wrote an autobiography of sorts and then turned toward the craft of writing and some serious and specific  advice.  He was addressing those who want to write professionally.  Write short stories, get published, shun adverbs and pronouns, listen closely to people so you can write good dialogue, cut 10% of your first draft — but only after you let it sit in your desk for a minimum of six weeks.  The six weeks gives you some distance from it.  You write the first draft quickly with the door closed.  Nobody, including writing retreat folks, ought to be in on it.  After the first draft, open the door — to those you think have useful things to say.  Write for an ideal reader.  Get an agent.  Get published.
He was not writing for the teacher, not specifically.
Kittle and Hicks do write for the teacher.  Mostly for the teacher.
I relate more to King, even though I’m not writing a novel or looking for an agent.  My personality traits align more with King.  Not the horror stuff or the alcohol, but the making of things, the need to work on projects. 
Kittle and Hicks drive the point home that teachers need to do the thing they are teaching.  They need to be writing.  Need to teach from the messy inside of the process.  Not always messy, but it’s not possible to give instruction on how to find your way through the process when you are not living the process.
It can be easy (in some ways) to teach when you are inside the writing.  You’re not guessing at what it takes to find a topic, a beginning, the structure …. you can give a travel guide, because you’ve been there.  It might sound silly but it makes me think of teaching yoga.  There are teachers who stand at the front of the room and give instructions but they don’t do any asana themselves.  Their cues are odd sometimes, like they don’t know what it would feel like in the body to do the thing that was just described.  It’s easy to tell the instructors who have a strong practice themselves.  Like the ones who just came back from spending a month in India with BKS Iyengar, 10 hours a day — studying anatomy, do asana, getting yelled at, learning … practicing practicing practicing.
Anyway, I don’t even like going to class anymore, no matter who the instructor is, but that is not about writing … maybe.

I believe in what Penny Kittle talks about — that we don’t know what these kids are living with — we must be kind and patient, and never give up on any of them.  They deserve to learn how to write well.
I strongly believe that.  Teachers must be highly organized and motivated.  Gather all of those great mentor texts.  Be on your toes to catch the next mini lesson as it is naturally presented. 
And Troy Hicks, with his passion for the technology, the composing that can be done using technology.  We need to be literate.  Verbally and visually.
Again, teachers must be doing what they are teaching.  That means creating digital stories and podcasts, blogs, wikis, websites — thoughtfully.  Crafting, not just randomly posting. 
Teach from the inside here too, which can be more challenging for some of us who are not digital natives.  Things seem to change so quickly.

I better go finish reading The Goldfinch now, even though I’ll miss Boris and Theo, Pippa and Hobie so much when the book is done.  It’s a big book.  Sometimes, I feel slightly lost in the digital world — not so much because I don’t understand it — more because the pace feels different.  I like an 800 page book, I like the quiet of it.
(I also love beautiful photos and the story/song here.)