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What
Not
to Do . . . and Why
I Yam what I Yam.
—Popeye
I urged the
Harvard Independent
not to do this book. I told them that the last thing most high school seniors needed was a collection of superb college essays, exquisitely crafted and boldly imaginative. Most seniors are not going to write great essays, at least not ones that will by themselves get the reader admitted. In fact, I know of college studies in which 3 percent of the essays helped the applicant, 2 percent hurt the applicant, and 95 percent, while perfectly respectable, had no effect whatsoever on the admissions decision. Yet I have seen even good writers crippled by the pressure they put on themselves to write a great essay, one that will get them admitted. I was worried that this book would contribute to the already high anxiety level of most seniors seeking admission to the kinds of colleges that ask for and read the essay.
I suggested that the
Harvard Independent
compile a book of bad essays, examples of the kinds of writing to avoid. They agreed that the book would not contain all faultless examples of essays, and they asked me to write an introduction. Following my advice, I would like to mention some of the more common mistakes seniors make in deciding upon an essay topic and in writing the essay.
First, don’t write an essay that any one of a thousand other seniors could write, because they probably will. By the nine-hundred and forty-second time a college person reads about how bad you felt after losing the big game, that essay has lost its emotional impact. You can write about losing the big game, but when you have finished, read it and ask yourself if anyone else could have written the same essay. If you think the college might receive even one other essay like yours, rewrite it. The fact that you cried after losing the big game doesn’t distinguish you from all the others who might write this essay. On the other hand, the details—where you cried, who talked to you, exactly what you were thinking—probably will set you apart.
I think you should avoid writing an essay that will embarrass the reader. While you definitely must risk something personally in order to write an effective essay, the risk should not place a burden on the reader. The reader is not your therapist, not your confessor, and not your close friend. If you place the reader in any such role, he or she will be uncomfortable. You certainly want your essay to stand out from the crowd, but it is probably better to be forgotten than to be remembered in a negative manner.
Don’t try to sell yourself. The college will exercise its quality-control function using the grades and scores, not the essay. They use the essay to flesh out the numbers, to try to see and hear the person in the application. Rather than persuading the college that you are great, just show them who you are, what you care about, what moves you to anger, what the pivotal points in your life have been so far.
Also don’t try to write an important essay . . . the definitive statement on the Middle East crisis or on race relations in America. These essays tend to come across as much more pompous than their authors intend, I suppose, because it is unlikely that a high school senior is going to make the definitive statement on a major topic. More to the point, these essays tend to be written from a detached, objective point of view, exactly the opposite of what most college people are looking for in an applicant’s essay. They read your essay to find out who you are. When they want an informed opinion, they will go to the editorial pages, not their files of college essays.
Don’t set out to write the perfect essay, the one with a huge impact, the one that will blow the doors to the college open for you. It just doesn’t happen very often. It is largely a fantasy, and you will be putting enormous pressure on the still-developing writing skills of an eighteen-year-old. Think instead of giving the reader a sample of yourself, a slice of the real you, a snapshot in words. It doesn’t have to be an award-winning photograph, it just needs to be really you and reasonable well focused. Imagine that if you wrote the essay next month, it might well be completely different, because you would be different by then. I find regularly that the best essays I read are the result of a concentrated forty-five minutes, not the result of hours and hours of agonizing.
I will give one caveat on the writing itself. Don’t have others edit and correct it until you cannot hear your own voice any more. Certainly, you should correct the spelling. Of course, you should rewrite the essay, probably several times. My favorite writer on the subject of writing, William Zinsser, has convinced me that there is no such thing as good writing, only good rewriting. Rewrite to make sure that your words are saying what you intend them to say. That is all. That is the primary goal of rewriting. Word choice and word order must remain yours; even if a more experienced writer might suggest the more precise word, it will not be your word and you will begin to disappear from the essay. And remember that the only reason this essay has for existing is to show the reader who you are.
Finally, relax. Your chances of writing an essay that gets you admitted when you otherwise would not have been are unbelievably remote. Pick something you feel strongly about, for that will give the reader a window into your heart, and just write it. Think of the choice of subject and the first writing as simply sharing some part of yourself with a new friend. This is not unusually painful. The work should come in the rewriting stage.
Good luck.
—WILLIAM K. POIROT
Former College Counselor, Brooks School,
North Andover, MA
