Why Writing Helps Me Think

“I write because I don’t know what I think until I read what I say.” -Flannery O’Connor

The first time I heard this quote during my junior year as an undergraduate student, I felt like all my emotions about writing collided in one sentence. This was everything I had been feeling and didn’t know I wanted to say. Let me start by clarifying that I am not an English major, a hopeful author, or even a person who would say I like writing. I will gladly take a 100-question exam or give a long presentation, but for the love of all things multiple-choice, please do not make me write a paper! Yet, here I am halfway through my eighth semester working as a Writing Coach at the Residential Writing Center in CASAS.

I admit I have no innate passion for the act of writing, but I do love my job. I think O’Connor explains why. As a Writing Center Coach, I get to help students who share my lack of enthusiasm for writing discover the unexpected value of trying to write anyway.

What do you mean?

If we are honest, most of us don’t understand our own thoughts. Ideas constantly swim around in our heads but seem to fall apart the moment we try explaining them. Far too often, I have helplessly watched my own conversations devolve into a scramble of rephrasing, repeating, and regretting previous statements. I slowly realize I don’t even have a point. Before I try to explain my idea to someone else, writing allows me to test it out and see if my line of reasoning holds up. If I can’t explain it to myself, then I definitely can’t explain it to anyone else.

Writing forces me to put one word in front of the other until I can see a thought on paper in front of me. The topic can be as serious as theology or as petty as my emotions about the weather. Scratching down my thoughts pushes my brain to sift through the swirl of vague impressions and gut-feelings I usually carry around in place of coherent thoughts.

What did you say?

Writing allows me to take words back. Nothing changes my mind faster than hearing my own voice. I realize how ugly my words sound. Sometimes we don’t realize the power of our words until the damage has already been done. Instead of wishing for a time machine, writing lets me cross out those words and start fresh. When I delete something, I learn and grow as a person. I know more about what I believe and what I reject. Better still, no one had to receive those words I would later regret. Maybe I would hurt fewer people if I worked out more ideas in the safety of my notes app first.

I can’t always stop life to grab a pencil. Instead, clear communication can be worked like a muscle. The more I practice, the stronger my communication becomes. I can be more comfortable stringing words together in a way that respects and informs others.

Why keep writing?

I love my job because I get to help students flex that communication muscle and develop confidence in their ideas. Writing changes my mind and builds my convictions all the time. I don’t come to work bursting with passion for commas. But I do get excited when a student turns their own soup of information into a well-crafted argument right in front of me. I love supporting students through the writing process until they are truly proud of what they have to say.

If you don’t know what you think, consider taking O’Connor’s advice and see what you’ll say when you write. Also consider stopping by the Writing Center, where you can talk to a coach like me about what you wrote and what you still want to change. Even if no one ever reads the results, we can all benefit from stopping to consider what’s going on inside our heads. If we want to understand our thoughts and learn to share them with the world, then I think we need to start spilling some ink.