Personal Narrative : Personal Writing

I have a love-hate relationship with writing. I can write well according to some of my peers; though this could just be from the fact that I seem like the quiet, studious, type who has spent most of her time with the straight "A" nerds who went on to top tier schools such as Stanford. Sometimes I am not too sure of my own writing abilities. On most essays, I get a little bit above average grades and every once in a while I get a few more points than usual. I have noticed that my writing is better when I have to write about a topic I am passionate or know a lot about. The more I have to work with the better. Otherwise, my writing seems poor, forced, and somewhat bland. It usually follows a poor or basic thesis statement and lazy paragraphs. I believe motivation helps me to write better,

My writing experiences have been minimal. So far I have only learned the basics of writing, like forming sentences and forming sentences to put into paragraphs. I can tell that my writing has improved throughout the years. I hope to improve in writing essays, paragraphs, stories, and speeches so that I have no errors with editing and creating the final product. I predict that I will be a well rounded writer when I graduate from Newman University.

During this spring semester, I have grown in many ways as a writer, and a student. I have started to realize, and accept the flaws that I have created in my writing. In the past, I never looked into my writings and saw my problems, and if I did, I did not accept that they were problems. In my writing pieces in the past, I was very hard-headed about what I thought was correct versus what was actually correct. I have also become More familiar with different formatting options on Microsoft Word to create a more professional piece or writing. However, figuring out all the parts of writing and making them work together is the most difficult part of writing.

It hurts. My bright red bruises under the light were buzzing from the pain. The yelling and arguing were muffled by my loud sobs. Why did this have to happen to me? I was just a kid, I didn’t do anything! Stomp stomp stomp. I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. He found me and yelled into my ears even more. I was called ugly, fat, disgusting, useless, girly, weak. The words ringed in my ears as I asked myself once again, why? I was like a slave, I couldn’t defend myself, I had to survive the beatings. I succumbed to the insults and descended into chaos.

Throughout the seven weeks that I have taken this writing composition course, I have developed skills to help me improve my own writing. Using the writing process is one of the main focuses in the course. The writing process helps writers develop and revise their essay as they work their way up to creating the final draft that can be presented. Although there are many areas in my own writing where I can get better, I have found that my writing has improved in many ways while practicing using the writing process.

I'm not the best when it comes do to writing well. I guess i feel like my writing doesn't sound “smart” it's not full of big words that the reader has to look up and learn more about.

Throughout my writing process there are a various amount of steps I do to perfect it. Generally coming up with the idea is the most difficult part of any writing, even now, it is difficult to get started with the essay. Once I dive in though, it gets quite easier. Procrastination is a problem that i can not seem to shake. I will attempt to sit down, but as soon as the littlest thing pops up, I will usually be distracted and lose my train of thought. I attempt to run through the whole essay in my head before I start just to get a proper idea of how it will be structured.

Thinking about our first writing assignment, one of the suggestions focuses on the comparison of writing to running, it became apparent to me that this is something I would enjoy writing about. I am a long time running advocate, competing in marathons, and a neophyte writing student, and I find many similarities in both endeavors.

My experience in writing is rather slim, and primarily for the sole purpose of communicating with fellow colleagues and clients for business needs. Conversely, I have been commended for my writing skills. Prior to college, I never analyzed my writing process, I just did what came natural. Nevertheless, I believe my process begins by jotting down my thoughts, with no rhyme or reason; I lay them out, then begin fitting them together like puzzle pieces of a complete message. I rewrite my paragraphs accordingly, so my message flows flawlessly. Writing, as in responding to emails, comes rather easily to me; with content of familiarity. I purposefully clean up my writings for grammar, spelling, the removal of filler words, and to place transitional

When it comes to writing I have a mental breakdown, I get nervous, overthink, and emotionally stressed. These three words describe me as a writer. In high school I would have a difficult time starting papers, often times my weaknesses was grammar and sentences fragments. How I feel about writing is how I feel when a love one dies. It's like as if I'm at a funeral and my paper is the one being funeralized. I think the reason why I am how I am about writing is because my college English teacher in high school was so harsh on my papers, and ever since then I've been traumatize to write papers.

There I was sitting in the guest room of my aunts house. It was hot, the AC was busted, and I have not even started my history project. “I knew I should have started this sooner.” I said to myself. Ten minutes pass, and I'm still writing the first paragraph, when all of a sudden I hear a voice. “Take a little break man; you’re stressing yourself out.” I tried to ignore it, but the next thing I knew my left arm began to reach for my phone. I stopped myself. “I have to finish this project.” I said to myself, but I was not strong enough to stop myself a second time. As my phone sent a notification about a new video, my left arm sprang up and grabbed my phone. I wasn’t in control of myself. I couldn’t stop myself. It felt like the drive to

The brain is 3.3 pounds, has 86 billion nerve cells, and makes up 2% of 100% of people. Though this organ belongs to all people, it is still unique to everyone. The decision made, emotions felt, and life that was lived can be held in the palms of a person's hand.

I was never particularly fond of high school English courses, actually not very interested in reading and writing about any subjects at all. I’m more of a visual and tactile/kinesthetic learner. I’ve always preferred visual aids, diagrams, and active exploration of the world. Heck, I just like to touch and tinker with things to gain the necessary knowledge needed to perform a specific task. Reading and writing requires patience and an independent learning style that does not favor my cognitive learning style. As I continued to grow wiser and older my managerial requirments have forced me down the road of administration leadership. More powerpoint briefs, white papers, and continuous emails have largerly consumed my daily work routine. Taking

I exhibit untainted modesty and decorum at all times. To modify that statement so it sits in casual terms, I prefer to be well aware of the required principles and stay atop them; I am not one to waver ways away from what is expected.

It is often very difficult to get along with my brother, especially after a long day of school. We rarely agree and always seem to fight about everything. He always thinks he is the absolute best and this causes a major problem between us because we are so close in age. Every day seems to be a competition on who can outdo the other. One day we went over the limit and it all started with me apparently hitting him with my car, but I knew that I did not hit him. I often just tell people only my side of the story, how Brett definitely did overreact, and that this little accident led to some serious consequences.