I think I have a school problem. This morning I got up with every intention of working on my Nanowrimo attempt – my 1667 words plus the 220 that I didn’t get to yesterday. Yet here I am (well, literally here I am writing a blog entry, but ignore that part), going over my final essay for my British Literature class and thinking that I’m going to go through and complete it.
The essay was due – and turned in – last Wednesday, but considering that I hadn’t really picked what I wanted to write about until early Monday morning, I was pushed for time. So, while my essay was 14 pages long, I only got as far as the Victorian Era, and never really got to fully develop the points and ideas I was wanting to include.
My teacher finally posted the grade as well as the comments to my essay. She’s always really good about uploading a commented version of the essay as well, which I decided to look over this morning. I was shocked to see how positive the comments were – not that she is negative in any means. On the contrary – she’s an extremely supportive teacher, really wonderful and excited about what people have to say. However, I expected a lot of points about needing to expand on ideas, since that’s what I feel like that essay needs. Only once was a comment similar to that nature brought into light, and that was more asking for an explanation of the technique of a poem that I chose to use to make my point. Other than that, they were suggestions for readings she thought I might like.
Nevertheless, I am delving into that essay again, wanting to complete it and make it what I want it to be. As mentioned in my last post where I shared Creative Ideas for Starving Artist’s post about the lack of creativity and thinking in our culture, I wanted to make my essay have a point – aside from the general evolution of the question of Humanism. I wanted it to be an argument as to the importance of keeping the arts in school.
So, four days into my winter break, and I am still working on my essay, I am still creating a piece that I want to be perceived as fit for publication.
Why can’t I just relax?