Nancie Atwell was the first person to influence my thinking about the power of writing workshop. It wasn’t until I began college myself that the whole notion of a writing territories list began to take shape inside my writer-mind. I can still remember how odd it felt to tote around my first list of budding ideas, relieved at last to have a container for ideas that would easily escape me, but uncertain about how I would ever use it. My territories list grew and evolved though, and as it did, I was able to choose more meaningful topics for the pieces that I would produce.
As a blogger, I still keep up with that practice, jotting potential post topics into draft templates and saving them for the future. That’s how this post began two weeks ago. Shortly after a writing conference with one of our middle school writers, I opened up my dashboard and popped this quick reminder into a draft: write about how courage changes everything.
It does. I watched this happen just last week, during a conversation I was having with Eliza.
“What makes a writing idea a good one?” I often ask. “What makes something worth writing about? What makes it worth reading?”
Sometimes, kids will scramble to find their rubrics, excited to have language that helps them describe the craft of writing. Others will recall their favorite stories, movies, and songs. They will think about the things they’ve written, and the pieces that were best received.
Eliza said something incredible last week though. She had a real breakthrough, and it wouldn’t have happened had we not been exploring how our dispositions influence writer’s process and craft.
“I need to pick courageous topics,” she told me. “This is my goal for this year. I’ve written some good pieces of writing in the past, but the topics were not courageous enough. If I make having courage as a writer my goal for this year, then I think I might be able to write things people will really want to read.”
This was a huge discovery for her, and listening to her speak, I honestly felt like I was watching her “become” a writer. Ironically, Eliza’s words ring true for me as well. Founding the Studio a year ago was a tremendous risk that required a huge leap of faith for me. But it was a good idea. A courageous idea. It’s become the most rewarding work I’ve ever done. Kids like Eliza are helping me make huge discoveries as well. She must honestly feel like she’s watching me “become a teacher” some days. I’m grateful for such great company.
