Final Evaluation

Writing might be one of the most fluid ideas of college. There is no set standard for what is right and what is wrong, unless you professor tells you there is. Over this semester, I feel that I have become a much more mature writer. I am able to create successful works without my instructor telling me exactly what to do and how to do it. I see myself as a very independent writer but I have been so restricted in all of my previous years of school that I am too accustomed to having exact guidelines that when I am set free I tend to just stand there and think to myself, “Well, where do I go now?”

Because of this, my writing has grown. I have been able to view objects is a much different way than I ever could before. I learned how to dig deeper into the ideas and come out with an interesting idea. Our first major essay, focused on an observation, helped teach me to look at others and not focus on myself as much in my writing. On my first draft, I included a large amount of what I did during the observation and how I reacted to everything I saw. As I revised the piece I was able to let the reader know exactly what I saw without making the main focus of the piece be on me.

I also have learned to appreciate my peer’s ideas on my writing a lot more. When I was in high school, I was considered one of the best writers in my class (pathetic class, I know) so I really didn’t pay much attention to what my classmates had to say about my writing because it was usually something to the extent of, “Wow! This is so good. Um…I don’t know. Don’t change anything.” That didn’t do me much good. But now, as I am starting to be surrounded by much more successful writers than my previous chums, I am realizing that the peer reviews are very beneficial and the other writers tend to have some very good input that helps expand my writing. In fact, the reviews that I recieved from my professor and my peers during the peer review really helped turn my second writing project, focusing on rhetorical analysis, into the masterpiece it became.

The definition of good writing is still is very vague. I think that any writing that the author gets across an idea while informing or entertaining the audience. As long as someone has learned something from the writing or finishes the piece and are glad that they spent the time to read it, I believe that that paper can be considered “good writing.”

Post #20 3rd O-O

Thinking back to my high school memories, I can always remember some pretty amazing times with my friends. But when I really start to think about it, a large majority of those memories happened while we were all sitting on my giant, amazing couch. This couch, originally purchased sometime in the seventies, back in the day when so one had style, triumphs me in age by a long shot. The shape of the couch is very original and I have never again seen the same style, although the big couch idea is coming back in style. The shape replicates one half of a stop sign, or an octagon and separates into four different sections that you can arrange in whatever way you desire. Originally, this couch was a light tan color with darker brown stripes traveling through the cushions and pillows. Each of the pillows is outlined in a long brown fray that just screams seventies style. Because of its interesting shape and mammoth size, my couch is easily able to hold eight or nine teenagers at a time with no problem.

Now that description helps you imagine what this couch looked like in its prime. Thirty years later, the couch hasn’t moved from my living room but has altered in appearance. The once light tan color of the couch has now slowly turned to a dark dingy brownish-gray from the dirt accumulating over the years. The fray on the pillows has slowly started to rip away and separate itself. Each side of the couch has many different sets of stitching from different children of the house trying to sow the pieces back together to stop our mother from threatening to just throw it out one day while we are at school. It’s true, this couch has seen better days, but it also has seen an amazing amount of memories as well.

My house was always the place for all of my friends to hang out and whenever we walked through my door, the first place we always headed for was the couch. We could sit on that couch for hours just talking and playing video games until we found something more productive to do. This couch was so famous around my school that my senior class came to my house and picked up the couch just so that we could put it on the senior float for the homecoming parade. Not too surprisingly, the couch held almost 20 kids that day. When another one of my friends came to my house and found that his beloved couch was missing, he created a tape out-line of the couch like a body was found dead there. For the rest of the day that the couch was on the float, that friend of mine was in denial and pretended that the tape outlines were just like the real couch.

There will never be another couch that can replace my couch in my heart. No matter how much my mother rants about how much she hates that couch, she’ll never be able to throw it away because she knows how important that couch was to each of my siblings childhood.