Writing has always been a sort of escape for me. Whether it’s enlightening someone on a stance they should espouse or drafting a work of creative fiction, I always thought I knew what writing was. However, my perception changed completely after beginning this Expository Writing class. How was it possible to write something that was informative yet unbiased! And so, with this in mind, I embarked on my quest to conquer the final frontier in literature.
It started simply enough: write a Wikipedia-esque article on any topic. The “any” clause of this assignment was both a God-send and a curse. Being in full control of the topic meant full control of the execution. But in an encyclopedia-like entry? I thought it nearly impossible to begin. So, like any unassuming beginning expository writer, I chose to have something else choose for me; in this case, the random article generator on Wikipedia. To my amusement, my article was “List of Maritime Disasters”. So, I began my scholarly depressing piece on the cataclysmic impact sinking boats have. Was it sad to write? Very much so. But was it a jumping off point in my expository writing experience? Absolutely.
I discovered one, crucial thing: that, while voice can’t really be injected into the piece, your topic can be just as influential. Maritime disasters, while quite a downer of a topic, was intriguing enough to garner comments and well-thought critiques. I don’t think I actually comprehended this at the time, but by the end of the quarter, it was evident that the chosen subject has as much of an impact for drawing in readers as the style.
Of course, as a fledgling expository writer, I still had to have someone else dictate what subject to write. The open ended nature of the next assignment, “Rewriting the News”, was not helpful at all in narrowing down my options. So, I consulted the Wikipedia random article generator again. Another equally-entertaining article was generated: “Unreleased songs by Britney Spears”. Oh, the laughter. The serendipity of it all is that a cache of new unreleased songs had been leaked onto the Internet mere days before the assignment was given out.
This time, I had a general idea on what to write. I knew how to cater to my audience, while still being objective and to-the-point. Still, the rhetorical value of the piece was definitely lacking in all of the 3 rhetorical categories. An article on an unreleased Britney ballad written by a college male who previously wrote about maritime disasters, written in an encyclopedic/news like style? So much for ethos, pathos, and logos.
The “Integrating Voice in Expository Writing” assignment proved to be a turning point. My article, which enumerated the decades-long history of the McRib, was written in a casual, conversational style that reflected more of my own personality. It still maintained a factual basis, but was written in a way that was human; something you wouldn’t pull out of Britannica. This article was also the first piece that we posted a separate revision, and I used this to exercise more of my rhetorical power.
In the original article, I described myself as a “self-styled McRib virgin”. As one who had never tasted the McRib, and in turn the near-insanity it creates, I felt that I was someone who could believably tell someone about the phenomenon without having the hysteria created by this mystical sandwich weigh me down with bias. Here, I was exercising my rhetorical triangle: my ethos was bolstered by the fact that I was a guy (hence, I know about eating) who has never eaten a McRib. My logos was supported by the fact-based structure of the piece. My pathos was present in my writing style and topic choice. But I knew I had to explore the possibilities in conveying my message in other ways. So, for my revision, I recounted my mission to eat my first McRib. I still maintained my ethos, pathos and logos, but they shifted slightly. Now, you hear the story from one who is going to eat one for the first time, rather than read an account from someone who has never eaten one. Both pieces have their pros and cons, and both use the rhetorical triangle differently. Now, I was beginning to grasp the bigger picture.
Then, I threw a total curveball. And I relished in it.
The assignment was to write an extended definition essay. The topic: any concept I choose. Had I been given this a few measly weeks back, I probably would have floundered and asked for help. But I had my experience with me, and it really helped me. I, armed with the rhetorical triangle and past pieces, went full force in a more avant-garde work of literature.
I knew I wanted this piece to be different, but I wasn’t sure how. Before its writing, I had a vague idea of what I wanted to write about. Art had always fascinated me, and now I had an opportunity to use all those hours spent in art museums and dealerships to my advantage. But how? The idea crept slowly into my mind: at first, a whimsical thought, which grew into a delightful musing, which then evolved into a full-fledged writing effort. The thought was using fiction. I thought it was ingenious, but keeping the tone and definitive properties of the piece while reducing its bias was certainly an issue. But alas, out of all my works, I feel that my work concerning the frustrated artist fighting the orthodoxy is my best, and I am very proud of it. The logos of the author’s portrayal of the main character, the pathos generated by the conflict, and the ethos of the author himself all seemed to blend together into this amalgam of half-definition, half-declarative statement that seemed to equal one ridiculously moving extended definition essay. My intentions in the piece were made loud and clear. Unfortunately, it seemed to come at the price of my objectivity.
For my process analysis, I decided to tone it down considerably. The objectivity was hard to maintain in the previous piece. However, I wanted to write about something that was near and dear to my heart; something that I could easily write about on any moment’s notice. That’s when I decided to write on the process of naming a dinosaur for my process analysis essay. I’ve had extensive work in the paleontological field, writing papers and proposing new hypotheses. Considering my classmates were my audience, and my classmates knew of my avid love for all things extinct, this was an excellent way to appeal to their ethos. My knowledge on the subject gave me the boost in logos, with added to the authenticity and the efficacy of my piece.
Shortly thereafter, I wrote my classification essay on the various genres of apocalyptic literature. Secure in my writing ability and aware on how to write informatively yet not boringly, I tackled the task with an ease that I didn’t even know I could summon. The mood was also lighter, at least from the author’s perspective. Compared to the doom-and-gloom manner of my first post, my last post serves as a bookend to my portfolio: another fairly pessimistic piece that, while about a disastrous topic, shows much more growth and rhetoric-use than the first.
After my work on apocalyptic literature, I end my portfolio with this reflective piece. It’s not really expositorily-written; if I really wanted to impress or poke fun, I would’ve written it that way. Come to think of it, I probably should have. But that’s beside the point. No matter the ending to this portfolio, it still stands that I have thoroughly learned about and experienced how to write in an expository fashion. The final frontier has finally be scouted, mapped out, and conquered, and to tell you the truth, it’s been a blast. Not only have I accomplished the ability to effectively write in this style, but I have also examined my work and how it applies to the online world. This is very important, considering that the Internet will last for a long time. The skills and work that I have learned and completed in this class will have long-lasting positive repercussions that will reverberate for the rest of my life. That is, unless I take Expository Writing II.
But that’s for another quarter.
~Nick Vergara
