College Admission Essays: Leaping Over Writing-Related Blocks

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Even if you weren’t confronting a college admission essay, you might stub your toe on a writing block somewhere along the way to a finished product. Writing isn’t brain surgery, but getting those words onto the page isn’t the easiest task in the world either. I once read an interview about an fine author of many non-fiction books and articles. He claimed that he had to tie himself to the desk chair with a belt whenever it was time to begin a new piece!

You (probably) won’t have to go that far to overcome blocks that arise from the writing process. Mostly you need to identify the problems and then change your technique slightly. Think of the small adjustments that a hitter makes when facing a new pitcher in the world’s best sport, baseball. If you’re not (gasp) a baseball fan, think of the way you subtly change your argument when you see the parental face turn towards “No, you can’t have the car tonight.” In this section I explain how to tweak your writing techniques.

Rising from the fog of details

You’re writing a poignant essay about your uncle’s adoption of a homeless tarantula, waxing poetic about Spidey’s first minutes in his new home. Suddenly, you stop. Spidey’s initial ascent up the orange-striped wall . . . was the wallpaper really orange? You search your memory bank, but nothing pops up. Hmm, maybe the wallpaper was purple? Or chartreuse? (Uncle Eggbert was colorblind, in case you’re wondering.) The essay languishes, a victim of your quest for an accurate wallpaper description. By the time you remember that Eggbert’s living room in fact featured bare brick walls, it’s too late. You’ve lost your train of thought and can’t finish the essay.

Don’t get me wrong. Details are great. I love details! But if you allow yourself to agonize over one particular fact, you’re in trouble. Think of the issue this way: Your brain has room for only one job at a time: wallpaper remembering or essay writing. I think everyone out there can identify the right choice.

Here’s what to do when you hit a detail-snag: Insert a blank line and a note to yourself. Then keep going. Returning to the tarantula example, you’d type:

Smoothly sliding each of his legs over the _______ wallpaper, Spidey immediately made himself at home. [FIND OUT ABOUT THE WALL PAPER]

Remember to fill in the blanks and delete the note before you print a final copy of the essay!

Editing while writing

Avoid editing while writing or preparing to write. (The two tasks rely on different mental processes, which clash.) Unfortunately, lots of people do attempt to combine these two functions while working on the rough draft. Some, for example, stare at a sentence for ten minutes trying to find the perfect verb. That’s editing, not writing. So by the time the Platonic Ideal of Verb-Land shows up, the essay is on life support, because the editing has overshadowed the writing.

Don’t stop to analyze when you’re creating. Just keep going and leave the critical judgment for later. So in the “which verb is best” dilemma I described in the preceding paragraph, the solution is simple: Put a verb in — any reasonably sensible verb — and move on. And that’s the answer to all the blocks you may encounter while working on the rough draft: Just pour it out onto the page. Later you can punch it into shape. And later you should punch it into shape.