An artist studies the painting in front of her. She meticulously examines the brush strokes and tones of the pigment, hoping to exactly replicate the texture of rough homespun cloth against the gnarled wrist. She turns to her canvas, the correct brush in hand, ready to copy.

The training of an artist is not to be mistaken for creating art, creating an original upon which one can place one's name. Copying builds skill.

A CONCRETE RESPONSE

The models throughout this site illustrate how the theories of composing take form. They are to be read and enjoyed, then pulled into pieces.

Examine how these parts relate.
Change order of parts to see what happens to persuasion and impact
How much is based on observation?
How much is based on personal experience?
How much is based on interviews?
How have facts been included?
At what point did you know the thesis?
How do adjectives and adverbs color the piece?
When is stark, unadorned fact more appropriate?

When the examination and explication stages have been ended, the writer should pick up pen. Select a topic of personal passion or passing interest.

Exercise composing skills by following the pattern. The more confident the writer becomes, the less conscious of pattern he will be. The more distinctive and original the voice.

A METAPHORIC RESPONSE

The white sheet of paper, the sketchbook and the empty computer screen offer another metaphor, similar to the empty, expectant canvas.

Annie Dillard in The Writing Life says a reader asks, "Who will teach me to write?" She responds:

The page, the page, that eternal blankness, the blankness of eternity which you cover slowly, affirming time's scrawl as a right and your daring as necessity; the page, which you cover woodenly, ruining it, but asserting your freedom and power to act, acknowledging that you ruin everything you touch but touching it nevertheless, because acting is better than being here in mere opacity; the page, which you cover slowly with the crabbed thread of your gut; the page in the purity of its possibilities; the page of your death, against which you pit such flawed excellences as you can muster with all your life's strength: that page will teach you to write.