Writing as an
art form is spoken about constantly: show don’t tell, show and tell, details,
mystery, etc. This is commonly discussed in English courses, both writing and
literature based. Recently I learned a lot about writing from a course I never
thought I’d get tips about the “art” of writing from: Marketing Management –
Neeley Fellows, Honors.
One of the many
sources of abnormality that I possess is my opposite interests: Math and
Writing. Somehow this has turned into an Accounting degree (I won’t lay out
here the formula I created to help me decide that), and an accidental Writing
minor. Writing is a real passion of mine, and it has definitely lead to some teasing
from some students in the Business School as well as some questions about my
interest in Accounting. Let me say it plain here: I want to be an Accountant –
a Forensic Accountant specifically. However, I also want to be a writer. The two aren’t mutually exclusive. Keep this information in mind –
it’s key to understanding the experience.
So, last
semester in two of my business classes I learned a valuable lesson: in business
classes details aren’t desired unless asked for. In my business plan I turned
in, some adjectives were circled and points were taken off because they were
details and thus unnecessary. I thought that was just good writing, but I made
a note, and tried again. The next time my grammar was too good, so points were
taken off. I pulled up Meriam-Webster’s online to show him that I had even looked
up the rule, and he said it didn’t matter. It didn’t read like he thought it
should, so the point deduction remained. Then on an essay I was told my answer
was "too thorough" and that I should have just answered the question asked and only that –
again, points deducted. I took note of this: English classes remember to have
good grammar and details as needed, Business classes simply answer the question
asked more with minimal details. I would not take grade cuts in the next
semester – I had learned my lesson.
Or so I
thought. This semester I took my first purely essay based exam in a non-English
course. Marketing, Fellows style. On this exam I consciously thought about the
lessons I’d learned last semester. The first question was posed and I thought, “Perhaps
I should outline all the phases in the last 100 years of marketing because I
know them, so why not? Why not? It takes up precious time, that’s why not. You
got points off last semester, that’s why not. If he wanted that information he
would have asked for it, that’s why not.” Let me let you in on a little secret,
friends: I found out why when the tests were returned. The details that had
been my friends for 15 solid years of literacy and creative writing had been feeling
neglected for a whole semester, and now – when their presence was desired most – I had
not used them out of fear.
Fear. “There is
nothing to fear, but fear itself.” Thanks, FDR. While some books start out
pointing out the hurt that was created in some lives by that quote, I will
begin this paragraph commenting on the hurt that was created in my life by not remembering
the moral from that quote. I should have not feared the consequence and went
with my gut – my gut said, “Write the information,” and Fear said, “Remember last
time?” Oh, Fear, well played this time. But I shan’t let you remain triumphant.
I shall prevail. Writing is an art form – it’s a point that I’ve argued against
many an Art and Business major. I am an artist with a pen, not a brush. But learning
Business writing is proving to be rather difficult. There seems to be no hard
and fast rule. I’m told one semester that my details make it inefficient and
unprofessional, and the next semester I am told that writing is an art form
that is more difficult than I think. I'd heard of Fear hurting writing and impeding the message. Guess I understand it fully now. Wish it hadn't affected by GPA, but still. Small points off on a GPA represent lessons learned, right? Maybe?
Mistakes,
mistakes. Writing is natural for me – even more so than breathing (I’m heavily
asthmatic). But I believe my non-writing classes may be giving my writing a new
kind of challenge: fitting into a undefined box that it has fought it has
fought for years to be free from.