Dear Dr.

Hartman,
I found this assignment to be thoroughly helpful in the fact that it not only gave you a chance to have a
broad view of my life as a writer but also provided me with a chance to think about indispensable
moments in developing my outlook and practices in regard to writing. Of course, I knew that all of the
moments that I have shared have played a key role in my development, but I have never examined in
depth how and why they have shaped me. I think it is safe to characterize my life as a writer as one that
has gone through many vicissitudes, and all of these events listed, though not an exhaustive list, are
some of the primary components of what have made me write, and to some extent think, the way that I
do.
Concerning my philosophy, I hope that I can pull from all of these instances and what I will also learn
in this class to create one that is effective and poignant. I do know that a lot of my philosophy will
most-likely address reading and literature to a degree, but how that all works itself out I am still excited
to see. As I say somewhere below, I do believe that reading and writing are two sides of the same coin.
And, since reading and literature are things that are very close to me, I feel as if they are inherently
going to be vital aspects of my philosophy. Yet, I am eager to learn more about all the intricacies of the
teaching of writing that this class has to offer. I know that I have a lot more to learn and cannot wait to
see how everything I accumulate from this course might either change or refine me as a writer. In
essence, I want the content of this course to clash with my own ideas and experiences to create a
philosophy that is lasting. Im sure that through your guidance and the fruit of this class this will
happen!
Sincerely,
Brent King

Brent King

Writing Autobiography
Dr. Shana Hartman
3 February 2016
The idea of writing has always been something that has fascinated me. As a lifelong reader, I have
always had an interest in writing as well. However, I cannot say with confidence that I have always
been able to write well. In fact, I am still not sure how skillful I am at creative writing, although I do
enjoy it from time to time. My writing life has been a somewhat turbulent one, for I was what one
might call a late bloomer. College was the real catalyst for me to get serious and learn to write
effectively and cogently. Before that, I struggled with clear expression, which suffered a great deal
from poor grammar. It pains me to say that although I have always been fascinated by writing, I did not
put much effort into it until I was forced to in college. Today, as a graduate student, and one who
actually does attempt to write to the best of my ability, I have gone through much transformation. I
know that I am not a spectacular writer, but I do have a great deal of confidence and have accepted the
fact that writing well is a lifelong process. Although my course work in undergrad was the primary
influence on my writing, I can recall several instances that span my college days and before which have
been quite formative.
Connection 1: Summer reading
I attribute most of my love for reading to my splendid mother. She has always been a voracious reader
and an effective writer (she often pens reminisces from her childhood which I love to read). When my
sister and I were in primary and elementary school, our mom always encouraged us to pick up a book,
turn off the television, and read. I remember that the first book I ever read by myself, even though it
still had pictures in it, was a book about sharks. It was a simple book explaining the differences
between various sharks like tiger sharks and great whites. I remember that Mako sharks were my
favorite because of their long, sleek bodies. I devoured the book. After I learned how to read, my mom
always gave me and my sister personal summer reading challenges. If we read five books over the
summer, then we would each get ten dollars. If we read ten books, then both of us would get twenty
dollars, and so on. In retrospect, it seems like bribery, and perhaps that was an aspect of it, but we loved
doing the reading whether we received anything or not.
I think my mothers influence on me to read has been an immense influence on me as a writer. I do not

see myself being interested in it without my love of reading. Often times, reading something I find
invigorating inspires me to pick up the pen and try write something that might be half as moving. It
seems natural that literary types enjoy both sides of the coin--consumption and expression. I know that
Tom Wright, a favorite theologian of mine and prolific writer, is a deep reader, and there is certainly a
long list of great writers who were and are busy readers. Plus, without reading, I do not think writing
would be possible for anybody! All writers are necessarily readers.
Connection 2: Mrs. Toppings second grade class
Far be it from me to ever tell anyone that I was a good student while I was growing up. Frankly, I was a
terrible student, and my second grade teacher was quite aware of this fact. I was the kid in the room
who constantly attempted to talk with the other kids, not only not doing my work but keeping others
from getting theirs done as well. I wish that I would have been more focused as a kid, but I guess I can
only look back, shake my head, and laugh a little. I guess what is past is past. Mrs. Topping was my
second grade teacher, and if I told her that I was now in graduate school in an English program, then
she would probably be left with her mouth gaping wide open. She used to complain to my mother
incessantly about how I could not write a cursive L correctly. I always exaggerated them too much and
they ended up looking like an O, which seems forgivable to me. Mrs. Topping complained to my
parents so much about how poor my writing was that they finally began to believe that if it was not my
cursive, then she would find something else to complain to them about, no matter how insignificant.
Other than the fact that I talked to the other kids all of the time, I think what drove Mrs. Topping up the
wall about me was the fact that she recognized I was intelligent, but I would not do what she wanted
me to do. I always did well on the state tests when it came to the writing section, I just did not perform
well in her class, and this infuriated her. I do not blame her though, I know that I would never want to
have to teach a kid like I was. Looking back now, I see that being absolutely lethargic about having to
write in elementary school but having to do it anyway has had an almost imperceptible influence on me
as a writer. However, this influence is one of vast importance. If it were not for frustrating days due to
inept cursive letters, then I would not be able to communicate as a writer today. This little anecdote
reminds that learning a craft well will forever have moments of sheer bliss along with moments of
intense failure and dejection. What is important about my broodings over Mrs. Toppings long-gone
class is that I remember that I kept on improving.
Connection 3: Mr. Corleys class

Flashing forward to high school, one of the best classes I ever had the privilege of taking was taught by
Mr. Corley, my eleventh grade English teacher. I remember his class distinctly because he was such a
goof, yet he was extremely erudite. I remember walking into his class one day and being a little startled
because the whiteboard had curse words written on it. We ended up learning about etymology that day
using words that none of us were typically allowed to utter. One of the assignments from Mr. Corleys
class that I remember well is the descriptive essay. What is a good high school English class without
the descriptive essay? Essentially, everyone was tasked with taking one evening to write a three-page
essay about anything that they wanted to using highly descriptive language. Since autumn was and still
is my favorite season out of the year, I decided to describe a day I rode my bike around the town during
the fall. I put all my effort into describing the fiery colors of the leaves, the certain smells that autumn
seems to bring, and all of the emotions I felt while riding my bike down main street. I remember
thinking that writing the essay was a lot of fun and there was something consoling about getting
thoughts and feelings down onto paper. I did not make a good grade on the paper because it was replete
with endless mechanical and grammatical errors, but I do remember the lasting satisfaction that turning
feelings into thoughts and then into words brought me.
Connection 4: Essay for Dr. Collier
Moving forward again, one of the most formative influences on my academic writing came from Dr.
Collier, the dean of English at North Greenville university. Though I only had one class with Dr. Collier
(Modern American Literature), it was one of my favorites and really pushed me to write critically. The
final essay for the class had to be an examination of one of the four novels that we had read for the
course using a literary theory. I interpreted Ernest Hemingways The Sun Also Rises through a
traditional historical-biographical lens. I recall going to Dr. Colliers office and essentially asking her
what she was expecting for the assignment. I had not taken literary theory yet, so I was a little nervous
about interpreting the novel and having the dean of English, who was already known for being
intimidating, grade my work. After her telling me that she expected a clear interpretation with effective
writing, I immediately began work on the essay. At the time, I did not have much confidence in my
abilities as a writer. I knew that to construct a well-written paper would take extra dedication, with a lot
of thought fused into each sentence. For two weeks I stressed over the paper, spending a good bit of
time in the library. Finally, I turned it in with my fingers crossed. A few days later, I got it back with a
nice, big 97 on the top left hand side of the page.
Going back and looking at that paper now shows that it wasnt really all that great of an essay, it
definitely had its flaws, but receiving that grade was definitely a moment in my life that let me know

that I should not be afraid of academic writing. I realized that I could keep working on my skills
forever and progressively get better. Primarily though, it gave me the confidence to keep on writing.
Final Connection:
As a writer in my second semester of graduate school, I am confident but humble. Confident because I
know that I do have the capacity to write well and creatively; but humble because I know that I have a
lot to gain from this course and a life of experience. I hope to keep cultivating my abilities and my love
of writing as I go through graduate school. Finally, I recognize that I AM a writer, and I am excited to
see where that declaration might lead me as I follow my aspirations as a teacher and as a human being.