Seventeen years ago, when the concept of "The Zedland Chronicles/Orphan Running" was a mere wisp of a thought, I took a course called "Expository Writing" thinking I'd learn something helpful, since I knew nothing about the craft at all. To my great surprise, I learned a lot, and as an interesting side benefit, I became a more analytical reader. Who knew?
While I gained an intellectual understanding of various literary elements and their importance—voice, point of view, slant, ethos, pathos, logos, imagery, symbolism—it was the feedback from my classmates and my professor that helped me find my stride. Gosh, I was easy. Got a few pats on the back and became a writing fool. Jumped out of the old confining box with astounding athleticism. So gratifying. I enjoy the process now—sometimes laugh or cry at my own work. It's embarrassing.
If I had to single out one specific aspect of the learning experience that upgraded my writing ability the most, it would be that I used to try to write, you know, like letters to the editor in the Times Herald Record, and now, I just listen to my voice.
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