An evaluation of my writing strengths and weaknesses:
My views on my own writing abilities change frequently. Some times I am under the impression that I am a relatively skilled writer for my limited experience, and then other times I feel I have know ability whatsoever, and should stop writing. Not stop entirely, but to not write anything I would have others read. I ordinarily do write with the intent mainly for myself, but some times I am in the mindset that I would like others to read my works. I usually regret it afterwards, because as I go back to read my work I realize I do not like it as much as I had assumed I did previously. I am aware that everyone is more critical of their own work than most others will be of them. I feel like my criticalness of my …show more content…
It’s that kind of music that’s almost so alternatively obscure, that you don’t even pay attention to it. It’s just there so people can feel like they’re conversations are a little more private. Or it’s there for those of us without lives to forget how silent they really are. Everyone’s in their own world. They have conversations that make them feel uniquely different from everyone else, but it’s exactly those conversations that make them identically the same, or at least have over bounding similarities. In all this sameness though, I was able to see into a life.
As soon a she walked in I saw it. Bag, black, artificial leather purse haphazardly stuffed, and a book in her hand. With an unexpressed melancholy look on her face, she proceeded to the counter. After placing her order, which I did not hear, she moved to the receiving end of the counter. Upon doing so, I could read the title of her book. Grey. The types of books a person reads says a lot about them. This didn’t exactly seem to be the type of location one would bring a book with such controversial themes. Perhaps though, this was her only
My views on my own writing abilities change frequently. Some times I am under the impression that I am a relatively skilled writer for my limited experience, and then other times I feel I have know ability whatsoever, and should stop writing. Not stop entirely, but to not write anything I would have others read. I ordinarily do write with the intent mainly for myself, but some times I am in the mindset that I would like others to read my works. I usually regret it afterwards, because as I go back to read my work I realize I do not like it as much as I had assumed I did previously. I am aware that everyone is more critical of their own work than most others will be of them. I feel like my criticalness of my …show more content…
It’s that kind of music that’s almost so alternatively obscure, that you don’t even pay attention to it. It’s just there so people can feel like they’re conversations are a little more private. Or it’s there for those of us without lives to forget how silent they really are. Everyone’s in their own world. They have conversations that make them feel uniquely different from everyone else, but it’s exactly those conversations that make them identically the same, or at least have over bounding similarities. In all this sameness though, I was able to see into a life.
As soon a she walked in I saw it. Bag, black, artificial leather purse haphazardly stuffed, and a book in her hand. With an unexpressed melancholy look on her face, she proceeded to the counter. After placing her order, which I did not hear, she moved to the receiving end of the counter. Upon doing so, I could read the title of her book. Grey. The types of books a person reads says a lot about them. This didn’t exactly seem to be the type of location one would bring a book with such controversial themes. Perhaps though, this was her only