How I Write Essays in 16 Steps (Which can also be how YOU write essays in 16 Steps!)

If I've learned how to do one thing as an English major, it's how to write a solid essay. This process took a long time to refine, though, starting way back in Junior Year of high school. (Well, before then, my teachers tried to teach me. Thank you, Ben Sombs. But I was not very receptive at that time, I guess! :) Many of the teachers at Regent University online have been particularly helpful in giving me personalized feedback about what wasn't working in my essays. Gradually, this and writing stories have helped me develop a good process. (The processes of essay-writing and story-writing actually don't differ a whole lot, as I'll note along the way.) I don't always use every step because each essay is a little different; but I wanted to share all the tools I have used. This post will share everything I wish I knew back when I first started writing essays.

1.) Before I begin read my source (if the essay requires one) and subject or prompt, I find some good study materials to ponder along with my reading; if the essay requires no source, I carefully examine the prompt. Study questions are particularly helpful for research or analysis essays: I find them on websites like Sparknotes.com, or get them from a teacher. If I can, I find some sort of introduction or context for the source, as well. I also make sure to study my prompt very carefully; my AP English teacher always said "'AP' stands for 'Address the Prompt.'"

2.) Then I begin reading my source and taking notes on themes or anything that could possibly be useful.* For longish research essays, this step could take up quite a bit of time. But...I shut up and eat my peas. That's just how writing goes, sometimes! Hence why I like to get started on this a week or two before my essay is due.

*If I don't need a source, I just brainstorm about my topic and thesis. When I finish brainstorming, I skip to step 4 on this list.

Notes are like mind mulch. Good seeds come from mind mulch. (To see how I make mind mulch for stories, check out this post.)

3.) Once I'm finished reading, I just write about the material for a while in an effort to pin down topic ideas. Actually, sometimes I'm not finished reading everything, yet, if this is a research essay; but I make sure to constantly ask, "What is the author of the source trying to tell me?" as I do read and after I finish a source. As I observe main points and themes (for which the study questions come in handy), I keep asking myself what might be useful for my thesis. Throughout this step and the rest, I ask myself question after question about the material and my own notes so I can begin to understand it all and make connections. I describe this process in this post, if you are curious about it. Although I describe it there in terms of story-writing, it works exactly the same way in essay-writing.

4.) When I've brainstormed everything I can possibly think of to say on the sources and topics, I go back over my notes and highlight the best stuff I find there. This mysterious "best stuff" will often be made up of conclusions I've drawn from the rest of the mass. Sometimes I'll spend a whole page or more just coming to one conclusion. Most teachers never tell you that lots of "eh-but-necessary notes" happen before the good stuff happens. Once in a while, the study questions yield good stuff immediately. But by the time I finished my last essay, an analysis of Daniel Defoe's Moll Flanders, I ended up with a whopping six pages of messy notes on top of the four pages of my essay. And each note brought me closer to "the end."

5.) I compile the "good stuff" onto a new page or word document, separating it from the leftovers.  Typically, by this point, some sort of central idea is beginning to percolate in the back of my mind, so I pick the notes that fit that idea. But I make sure to save the old leftover notes in case I change my mind later.

6.) At this point, I might need to take a break. Emptying my brain is usually exhausting, if I do it right.

7.) Next, I make connections between my ideas by scanning and sorting my good notes (and, if necessary, my leftovers). I write s'more, beginning to form ideas for the introduction that will lead me and my readers through the mass of information (though the introduction will not truly take its final shape until later). If I need to, I riffle amongst those old notes I saved. Perhaps I find that I need to expand or change the central idea, or perhaps my exhausted brain picked the wrong central idea at first. Whatever the reason, old notes sometimes come in handy. Because I'm a visual learner, I use strikethrough text to cross out old ideas when they may have become irrelevant, and I use the highlighter tool to pick out new "good stuff." Actually, I don't know what the heck a visual learner is, or if I am one, but these two tools sure help! At this point, I am still asking and answering any questions about my own essay or my source the way I described in that post I mentioned in step 3.

8.) After I've picked some good ideas out of my notes, I develop a thesis. I refine the central idea I've been pondering. It may be tough to find amidst all the possibilities, so I keep them all, for now. My thesis may begin to come to me even before I've finished all my research. And even at this point, my central idea/Frankenstein monster thesis may completely change. I usually panic at this step because it's hard, but I'm sort of learning to skip that and just keep looking for the best option.  The best kind of thesis will not have lots of directions--it will be fairly concise. It will state a firm claim about my topic, one I think I can prove. Everything else I write in this essay will depend upon this one little sentence. Again, highlighting and strikethrough text come in handy.

The thesis is a lot like the premise of a story. Or like God. It is the Alpha and the Omega of your essay.

9.) Once I have my thesis, I move it onto a brand-spankin'-new page. This is a new beginning, because I finally have a focus point for my essay. But I keep my notes in a separate document in case I need them again.

10.) I use my notes to figure out what points to make in support of my thesis. These are called "supporting points," and they will form the backbone of my essay though the body paragraphs. It may take some time to find these main points. I compile all the major ideas I've discovered into the all important introductory paragraph, which is still messy. I compare them with my thesis and pick the best ones.

11.) Once I  have some possible "supporting points," there's nothing to do but try them out. I start filling in the spots between the supporting points to see if they actually lead anywhere (they don't always, but there's no way to find that out until I explore them). Yep, more notes! But these notes will eventually become my body paragraphs. I make sure to quote directly from my source to support each of my points. Even supporting points need support.

12.) Once I've filled out my body paragraphs, I start connecting them with transitions. If I can't connect one of my supporting points/body paragraphs, that's alright. I just paste it right near the top of my "notes" documents so I know where to find it, in case I change my mind. I may even erase it using "track changes" if I can't bear to simply remove it (another useful crossover from my story-writing process). Usually, by the time I've finished my essay and I check back on these track change deletions, I have no problem removing them because I've realized they just don't fit. This is how I trick myself into "killing my darlings."

13.) I tie everything up into a conclusion. I may form the conclusion at any time during the essay, not just at the end. Creating the conclusion helps me see my essay as a whole for the first time. It also forces me to see whether or not all the parts of the essay (introduction, body paragraphs and transitions) fit together. I summarize all of my main points and tie them into my argument, the thesis. And once I've finished with all these parts of the essay--thesis, body paragraphs, transitions and conclusion--there's only one essay component left to write.

14.) I write the introduction of the essay. This may seem backward, but let me explain. My introduction shows the reader the main points I will make and the order I will make them in.* If I don't know those things myself yet, how can I introduce them to my reader? I tinker with my introduction throughout the essay because it gives my essay both form and focus. It shares the "designing principle" (a term from John Truby's wonderful book The Anatomy of Story) of the essay with my readers--meaning, what will I cover and in what order? For example if I decide I'm going to argue how Moll Flanders changed after each of her (five) marriages in the essay, I might let them know the order: first marriage to last. Readers need to know this. So, to recap: once I've figured out my supporting points and tied them together using the transitions and conclusion, I can officially write "the" perfect intro to my creation because I finally have all the parts. That's what I write it at the end. Then I've finished my rough draft! The process gets easier from here on out.

*The introduction also interests the reader in my essay so they'll keep reading. This is called "hooking" the reader. A "hook" can be a quote, a question, a startling statistic or claim...anything that will interest them, really.

15.) I clean up the draft by clarifying rough spots, fixing typos and making it all-around prettier. This usually involves taking a step back and letting the work sit for a short time. If I have a few days (I usually don't), I'll come back to the essay and probably be glad I did. Oftentimes I'm too "close" to my work to catch all the typos. I almost always read my paper out loud to myself before turning it in, because that helps even an overloaded brain find the weak spots. Some people print papers out to spot more typos, but that doesn't do much for me. Save a tree. Once in a while I will change the font as I do a final read-through. This helps catch those final typos because, rather than skimming through all that Times New Roman again, I have to actually look at the words. And then? Then I'm finished.

16.) And I go celebrate. Seriously, that was hard work.

This process is extremely fluid, which can make it stressful. Every essay works out a little bit differently. I always use certain steps, but other steps I only use once in a while. And there is no set time period for writing an essay--often, it takes me at least a full day of slogging to complete a rough draft. But even sledding, an essay takes hours of diligent work. But once you learn to trust the process (your own process, I mean, not necessarily the one I've laid out here), then it will become a bit less stressful. We Scribblers must simply keep pressing on if we're going to write worth-while essays!


Photo Attribution
By Dbxsoul (Own work) [CC-BY-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Letting Critiques "Marinate"

Viewing our stories from the perspective of another person can teach us a lot about writing. Most serious fiction writers make friends with other writers and exchange critiques with them.* Critiques give us vital perspective on our creations.

*You can also exchange work on this great site, called Critiquecircle.com, where I learned how to self-edit by editing the work of others. Besides this, I learned many basic writing skills from the critiques of others, such as "showing" versus "telling." The website is essentially a free, online critique group.

However, we writers won't be able to understand that perspective, at first. It can be difficult for our minds to adjust to the lens of our critique partner's view. A partner's critique on my story often contains all sorts of hidden gold, if only I could mine it. In order to do that, I need to let the critique marinate in my mind alongside my story.

Then something magical happens (Magical, I tell you!). I suddenly see tons of ideas in the critiques that I never noticed before. It's like getting thoughts from several writers, instead of just one.

I used to read a critique once, maybe twice at most, before assuming "I got it."

No. No more.

Now, I have a process.

1. I read the original critique and let it sit for a day or two or more, depending on how it strikes me. I may or may take some notes on it, at this point.
2. Later, I read it again. I take notes on what I think is true, or what I think merits serious consideration. It's important for me to type it out the critique, or explain it out loud in my own words. As I do this, new insights from the critiques pop out at me.
3. I come back to the critique multiple times and reread it, eventually transitioning from the critic's words to my own digested version. I run through my story with them fresh in my mind, taking notes on revision ideas as I go (but not necessarily implementing all the changes I see). As I do this for a time, more things make sense and connect. This part is especially exciting when I have two or more critiques because the advice often overlaps in areas.
4. Finally, I implement the ideas from the critique (or ideas the critique inspired), starting with structural issues and ending with the nitty gritty. I can't say I stick to a list because sometimes new ideas pop up and I follow those. It's a haphazard, yet strangely, chaotically ordered process. (Sometimes it drives me a little insane because I like order. But writing is essentially ordering, so getting it done feels great.)

So, what can you learn from this, Scribblers? I don't know--maybe you'll want to try paying lots and lots of attention to the words of your own critics.

I was inspired to let critiques marinate by Kristin Cashore's wonderful blog post about how tedium and revision go hand in hand. (Kristin Cashore is the author of Graceling, Fire and Bitterblue, all of which are award winning female-driven YA Fantasy that I LOVE.) I highly recommend Cashore's craft post.

Photo Attribution:

By SJ Yang (Ganjang gejang  Uploaded by Caspian blue) [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

An Investigation: How to Identify Your Story's Problems

Scribblers,

I ran across a problem in one of my stories, recently. That's not bad or even unexpected. A problem can be dealt with.

But I couldn't figure out what the problem was, exactly.

Have you ever experienced that? You can't put your finger on it, but something about your story is out of place?

Part of writing is learning how to deal with this. There are probably a million ways, as there are for every other step of the writing process. I'll tell you how I do it, though:

I transform into an investigator. An investigator refuses to be discouraged by puzzling clues or the general unpleasantness of bad writing. We Scribblers must be inquisitive folk. When a story of ours has a problem, we must be all up in its business. Nosy. Investigative.

Asking questions is the best technique I've found to discern the nature of a problem.

Lately, I've been revising a piece of historical fiction. I researched lots of period details, carefully formulated a unique story structure and mapped out what my main character wanted and needed.

But something was missing. The story felt dead. I sent it around to a few friends and got some great feedback, but even as I revised it, I just didn't like it very much.

So I turned to questions. When trying to solve a hazy problem in revisions, I have to push past my natural comfort zone and persistently inquire about my story's problems. I have to ask,

"Which areas feel wrong?"

I follow my intuition to areas that just don't feel "right." Typically, these are areas that I've been avoiding because they're uncomfortable and I don't feel like digging in to assess the damage.

This questioning process frequently takes me down tangents that may seem unrelated to each other, but I pour every thought out onto the page. I explore every misgiving or uncomfortable vibe via multiple smaller, more specific questions. Any one of them or all of them combined could be "the" problem, or a symptom of "the" problem, or at least an opportunity to improve my story. Exploring and questioning can be time-consuming, but they are necessary for me.*

*Lots of writers do this "exploring." As always, I would direct you to John Truby's The Anatomy of Story and Chris Baty's No Plot? No Problem! (Chris Baty is also the creator of NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month).



This is an example of what story notes, questions and exploring can
sometimes look like. The red is what I'm unsure about. Other times,
I highlight, make comments, or use strikethrough text to sort.

When you go on revision-brainstorming tangents, your subconscious is trying to point out what feels wrong about your story.

After I've exhausted my tangent, I've typically exhausted my brain, too. I take a break for a bit. Then I come back and organize the mess of "story notes" that usually looks like words, words, words without meaning. I have to fight off a headache and lots of distractions every time I begin to sort and evaluate this mess because it can be tedius and discouraging.* It's hard to deal with intangibles, especially if you are an indecisive sort of person, like I am. But I have to explore my options.



This is an example of a more "sorted" section. I've organized my
thoughts into labeled lists of ideas, such as the character's "Desires"
or the story's "Premise." But tangents still butt in throughout the
entire process, as evidenced by the gigantic comment to the right.

*I also begin to question myself: Exactly how short is my attention span? Am I really cut out to be a writer? How could I possibly write such a dead boring story? If you hear these voices in your head as well, don't worry. Once you push past the madness in your first few stories, you'll start to develop the confidence that you'll eventually like the end results. (Note: Your housemate(s) might try to comfort you at this stage. What nice friends. Tell them you'll be okay, you're just dealing with the voices.)

All these tangents and miniature questions may show you an overwhelming amount of work to be done still (it did for me: the side characters, the main character voice, and the themes). And/or, you might find that all these smaller problems are a symptom of one larger problem. My problems stemmed mainly from writing the end of my story all wrong. Don't worry, your story will be better for your revisions. But before implementing them, you can always save the old draft, in case you don't like the result.

I have one more technique that helps me form questions, if I'm struggling to sift through my masses of notes. Or perhaps I am perplexed by some seemingly unrelated feedback from my online critique group, and my investigation isn't helping.

I usually take a day off from my brainstorming page and open up an email addressed to no one.

I imagine I know a recipient who has all the "answers" to my story story questions. But this person is  extremely busy, so I don't want to waste her time. Like a professor, for example (uh oh, my technique development is showing).

I then form my incomprehension into a few perfect, succinct questions in the clearest possible manner. If I don't have an answer to my question by the time I form it (often, I do), I save it in my "drafts."

Then I do something else for a day, such as reading a writing manual or something else I think might help me answer the question. I may even give my brain a break and read for plain old fun.

Later, I return to the query and revise, revise, revise. Tighten it up even more. Did I really word the question right the first time? Or is my focus slightly off?

Then I take another day off from the question and read some more, or work on another project. (Letting the problem sit can be a great way to solve writing snaggles, as long as you come back on time to make your deadline. I do this constantly with blog posts, school papers or story problems. The only thing is, you have to start the project early in order to have time for rumination.) Then I come back to it again. After a few edit-then-research sessions, I always manage to find an answer.

If this doesn't work, you can do as I do and ask this wonderful agent/author/editor for advice! But you'll have to be able to form a general question about it, rather than asking for specific feedback on your work.

Before you try asking the agent/author/editor, though, try questioning yourself. You might be surprised what these organic techniques will yield in you. More than once, I've drafted an email to the agent/author/editor and discovered the answer to my question during the process. Yes, this is how I discovered the technique for myself. Somehow, trying to explain the issue to someone else with respect to their time and attention helps me find, ask and answer the right questions.

So, get in touch with your inquisitive side, Scribblers!

 

Photo Attribution: By Sidney Paget (1860-1908) (Strand Magazine) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons