Process Writing

I don't remember when I added the sub-head to my blog title that reads "shaking the hand that feeds me," but I’m glad I did. 

That phrase, I just realized, very simply sums up what this course has been for me, both as a writer and as a consumer. 

Before this class, I would have called myself a foodie in the making.  I come from a line of women who love to cook. Everyone in our family loves to eat good food, and does so often.  We’re a family of multiple happy-hours, breakfast AND brunch, and daily home-cooked meals.  My family ties was what really pushed me to take this course. And what hand feeds you more than that of your family? 

  When I wrote my memoir, this came in handy.  I loved calling up my family members to ask them about food and the memories we shared together.  But putting that into words was much more difficult.  Trying to construct memories out of fragments of pictures and words that I’ve stored up somewhere in my mind was nearly impossible. My family says I have false memory syndrome—I think I just remember what they’ve forgotten—so I felt the need to check with everyone to make sure I wasn’t simply making something up.  My desire to remain honest and truthful was my biggest struggle throughout the process.  It was hard to hear classmates say they didn’t like part of my memory, or that they wanted more of something that I couldn’t fully give them because I couldn’t remember what had happened. I had to decide whether to build up the fragments or eliminate them to avoid confusion. 

  The perfect meal prompt was up my alley. I loved that prompt.  The most difficult part was picking out what to make! I had too many options.  I think the most grounding advice I received was to choose something I would be proud of in the end.  I was thinking of all this complicated dishes that I wanted to try out, but when it came down to it, I knew I needed to make the simple dish that I had grown up with, that I would try to be the hand that had once fed me. 

  The other element besides the food that drew me to this course was the journalism.  I grew up wanting to be a writer.  My father was a T.V. journalist throughout my childhood, and I knew I wanted to be just like him. When I made it onto my high school newspaper my sophomore year, I cried in the middle of the hallway between classes—I tend to cry a lot though, I also come from a line of people with weak tear ducts—I was so excited.  I spent countless hours working in the Echo Newspaper Office, working my way up from assistant copy editor to page editor. The newspaper was my life in high school, it was what I loved.  I started looking at colleges with esteemed journalism programs, but ended up deciding that journalism might not be for me and I shouldn’t revolve my decision around one program.  After that, I avoided anything journalism based because I missed it too much.  I was worried I’d get too involved again and then be disappointed. This course was the first time I really got to somewhat delve back into journalism, and I’m so thankful. I loved reading Bourdain, Pollan, Secret Ingredients and Sifton most because of their journalistic natures.  I loved writing the restaurant review because it was the first chance I’ve had in a long time to really explore that type of writing. 

  Tokyo Delve was above all fun. The experience was frightening and uncomfortable, but also a blast. As I was sitting in the decked out bar, I was worried about how I would write the piece. It just seemed like too much to tackle. I jotted down as many notes as I could and hoped for the best.  But when we went back to the hotel room and I began to write, it all flowed out. It was just there. I was worried most about the restaurant review, and in the end, it may have been my favorite one to write. 

Revisiting the pieces for revisions was also a struggle.  There was so much I wanted to keep and so much I knew I needed to change.  My biggest breakthrough came while I was revising my second piece.  I realized that in the original piece, I had been writing only for myself.  I was writing about something personal, and it ended up being more about me than the writer.  At the journalism conference the Index went to in CA, someone told me that you’re not writing for the writer, you’re writing for the audience.  That statement really stuck with me. And that’s what I knew I needed to do for the revisions. Stop writing for myself and start thinking about the reader. 

  At times, it was difficult to share such personal stories and opinions with the class, and to comment on classmates’ thoughts. It was incredibly fun to read everyone’s memoirs and share about our backgrounds and where our history with food stems from, but then we had to think critically about each individuals writing style, their theme and whether it was working.  I really didn’t like commenting on the longer pieces online. It felt so impersonal. I wanted my tone of voice in the comments, and I couldn’t record my suggestions, I just had to type it out.  When I was trying to be constructive, I felt critical. And when I wasn’t constructive, I felt like I was being repetitive, simply re-wording the comments of others before me and wasting time. 

  This writing process has been both enjoyable and challenging. It has made me examine the food I’m eating, where it comes from and why I’ve been eating it.  It has made me look at my meals critically. Why am I eating that? Do I want to be eating that? It has made me thankful for my family and the food I have. It has made me wary of the food industry and thankful for honesty on my labels. It has made me want to shake the hand that feeds me.