How my job took me on a journey back to the basics of high school essay writing.
Writing
an essay for Fr. Thompson's high school history class didn't involve much writing
at first. Before we even started a rough draft, we sat down with him to choose
a topic. Then we'd return with a thesis and a list of sources. Then we'd
submit an outline.
Then
we’d add meat to the bones of the outline with research. He taught to us to
write quotes, notes, summaries, and citations on index cards. These were
arranged by subject, which would form those three blocks of arguments that
would go in between those introduction and conclusion.
After
he looked over our index cards, we'd finally get to the actual essay writing.
I
took this research and outlining technique for granted until university – when
the training wheels came off. There were no weekly check-ins about sources or
helpful notes in the margins of my essay outline. I was on my own, lost. My disciplined index card technique de-mutated into a helter skelter frenzy of scribbling out notes from books
and academic journals on index cards, notebooks, and scraps of paper. My outlining process was laying them all over the floor, like
David Bowie snipping lyrics,
only I was no genius. Then I'd madly read and rearrange
them as I banged out my history essays.
I
should’ve known better. During a first-year
history lecture, our professor asked the class how to research an essay. A
former classmate raised her hand and responded with Fr. Thompson's index card technique. The history professor
paused in surprise. “In 30 years of teaching, no one has answered that question
correctly,” he said. It was, he added, the only way to research a paper.
And
yet, I still couldn't muster the discipline to scratch my research notes onto
index cards. I stubbornly held on to my paper diarrhoea essay technique.
After university, I spent ten years writing snappy 30-second radio ads, rhymey
headlines, three-syllable taglines, and moody brand films with little dialogue.
Most
of my blog posts clock in at 200-300 words (though this one's a longy, at 667
words). There was no need for index
cards, though I was a curiosity in many ad agencies with my notebook scribbling. So, the intention was there, but the structure was missing.
My
current job demands regularly writing 5000-word eBooks, which means researching
exciting topics like Software Compliance Audits and Oracle Java
Licensing Changes. As you can imagine, I've struggled to wrap my head
around the research and organize it into a sensible, logical structure – qualities
I often lack.
I
did everything. I doodled boxes and arrows in my notebooks, which spread from
one page to another and then to the next page like a blob made of crazy-looking
handwriting. For one long piece, I took a hint from John McPhee and David Bowie. I typed out all my research and the
bits of half-written text, snipped it with scissors, and spread the clippings
all over the office floor. As my nervous colleagues watched, I crouched and moved
around the pieces, from the beginning
through the long middle to the end, murmuring to myself.
To
beat this professional challenge, and calm my colleagues, I fell back on a high
school technique: Fr. Thompson's index cards.
I
type my notes from interviews. I print them out reading
materials and highlight passages. Then I sit down with the index cards, I read
all of it and write the main points and highlights and random thoughts onto index cards. Old
school. Then, as I'm writing, I shuffle through the cards or lay them out on a
desk. Not only do I feel like an adult, but I feel like an organized adult.
In
high school, the common question from every student when confronted with
something that demanded effort was "Ugh… Am I going to use this in real
life?" Twenty years later, I have my answer.
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| No crazy here! |