I used to hate writing and I still do..well kind of.. Yes I know what I'm producing right now is writing but I dislike doing it as much as I enjoy it doing it. That probably makes no sense at all so let me explain.
At secondary school English was a subject I dreaded going too , I suppose in a way I found it boring and dull. I would of much rather of been in the ICT suite or in the art room . It wasn't like I struggled with the subject , I was a A* student.
I just didn't enjoy it , I hated the essays and I hated the thinking that I had to do to put to the words onto the paper.
I never found out if I would of got my A* at GCSE English, the thought of having to sit in a room for two hours freaked me out. I skipped the exam and went to a theme park for the day. Somehow I still managed to get a passing grade of C by the coursework alone.
These days I would happily sit for two hours writing , yes it has to be on the laptop and yes it has to be something I want to write about but I am writing , right now as I write this I'm thinking how therapeutic it is just pouring my words into this . I have found this my way of finding motivation for my uni work, making it about me and convincing myself that I am writing it for me , no one else. I always know in my head what I want to say and write but when it comes down to it I can never find the right words/ways to record them into a post.
Writing is growing on me , it's like some kind of food that at first you don't like the taste of but then it grows on you after time.
Seeing such fantastic reactions to some of the stuff I write really helps spur me on, it reassures me that what I produce isn't totally utter crap. There is so much I need to improve on , my grammar , my wording and even the topics I write about but at least I'm now enjoying it for what it is.
Reading back through this post it may not be of any sense to anyone but me, I blame the mountain of washing in the corner of the room that keeps distracting me. I must go shrink it down to a more decent size.
At secondary school English was a subject I dreaded going too , I suppose in a way I found it boring and dull. I would of much rather of been in the ICT suite or in the art room . It wasn't like I struggled with the subject , I was a A* student.
I just didn't enjoy it , I hated the essays and I hated the thinking that I had to do to put to the words onto the paper.
I never found out if I would of got my A* at GCSE English, the thought of having to sit in a room for two hours freaked me out. I skipped the exam and went to a theme park for the day. Somehow I still managed to get a passing grade of C by the coursework alone.
These days I would happily sit for two hours writing , yes it has to be on the laptop and yes it has to be something I want to write about but I am writing , right now as I write this I'm thinking how therapeutic it is just pouring my words into this . I have found this my way of finding motivation for my uni work, making it about me and convincing myself that I am writing it for me , no one else. I always know in my head what I want to say and write but when it comes down to it I can never find the right words/ways to record them into a post.
Writing is growing on me , it's like some kind of food that at first you don't like the taste of but then it grows on you after time.
Seeing such fantastic reactions to some of the stuff I write really helps spur me on, it reassures me that what I produce isn't totally utter crap. There is so much I need to improve on , my grammar , my wording and even the topics I write about but at least I'm now enjoying it for what it is.
Reading back through this post it may not be of any sense to anyone but me, I blame the mountain of washing in the corner of the room that keeps distracting me. I must go shrink it down to a more decent size.