The Universe of Writing Processes
Although persuasive writing is currently king in K12 curriculum, teachers may want to consider that writing is not a monolithic process. The threat from AI to traditional writing assignments derives in my view from the narrowing of the writing curriculum over the past fifteen years. Rethinking this monolithic representation of writing will become central to using generative and inferential language bots productively in learning to write.
Writing engages a wide array of skills, techniques, and approaches that vary significantly depending on the genre and purpose of the writing. This post aims to illuminate the diverse nature of writing processes by exploring differences between various forms of writing with a particular focus on historical fiction, history, journalism, observational essays, science, and science fiction.
Historical Fiction vs. History: A Dance Between Fact and Imagination
One of the most intriguing comparisons in the writing world is between historical fiction and history. While both deal with the past, their approaches and outcomes are very different. In this Substack over the past two years I’ve exploited historical fiction from time to time to vivify the experience of teaching during the most recent large scale progressive school reform movement in the 1980s and 90s. I was there, in the thick of it, for fifteen years.
Imagine a grand ballroom where historical fiction and history are dance partners. History leads with precise, measured steps, adhering strictly to the rhythm of factual evidence. Historical fiction embellishes the basic steps, creating a more elaborate and engaging performance while still maintaining the integrity of the original dance.
Historical fiction blends factual elements with imaginative storytelling. Writers in this genre must do thorough research to ensure historical accuracy in their settings, events, and cultural details. However, they have the freedom to create fictional characters and plot lines that breathe life into the historical backdrop. The critical thinking involved here is twofold: authors must analyze historical data to create an authentic setting while also writing a compelling narrative that resonates with modern readers.
In contrast, writing history demands a strict adherence to factual information. Historians must critically examine primary and secondary sources, cross-reference information, and present a well-supported argument or narrative based on evidence. While imagination plays a role in forming hypotheses and connecting disparate pieces of information, the ideas in the text must always be tethered to verifiable facts.
The research process for these genres, while sharing some similarities, diverges in significant ways. Think of historians as gold miners, meticulously sifting through tons of earth (academic sources, archival materials, and original documents) to haul precious nuggets of factual information from the leftovers of past lives. They must evaluate the purity (credibility) of each nugget and combine them to create a valuable and coherent whole.
Historical fiction writers are more like landscape painters. While they too gather reference materials, their goal is to create a vivid, immersive scene. They focus on details that bring the era to life—fashion, daily routines, speech patterns elements to immerse readers in the historical setting. They can mix colors and fill in gaps with plausible fictional details where historical artifacts are unclear or incomplete.
The process of storyboarding also differs between these genres. Consider historical fiction writers as architects designing a theme park. They create a blueprint that outlines character arcs and plot points—the rides and attractions—while ensuring they fit into the historical setting—the overall park theme. They must balance the thrill rides of their invented story with the authenticity of the historical period.
For a history text, the storyboard is more like designing a museum exhibit. Historians think about how to present complex information in a logical and engaging manner, often without a narrative structure. They carefully curate and arrange their artifacts to guide visitors through the exhibit.
Journalism vs. Observational Essays: Two Lenses on Reality
Shifting focus to in media res forms of writing, I suggest considering differences between journalistic reports and observational essays. Both may cover the same event, but their approaches and outcomes can be strikingly different.
Think of journalism as a high-resolution, wide-angle photograph of an event. It captures a broad, clear, and ostensibly objective view of what happened. Journalistic writing prioritizes accuracy, conciseness, answering the fundamental questions of who, what, where, when, why, and how. Reporters are trained to verify facts, seek multiple perspectives, and present information in a clear, unbiased manner. Reporters are borrowed eyes.
An observational essay, by contrast, is more like an impressionist painting of the same scene. A journalist assigned to cover a Trump rally can be replaced by another journalist, but only one unique individual can take a personal, reflective approach with the writer's perspective coloring the depiction of the event. The essay might focus on certain elements, blur others, and add interpretive strokes that reveal the author's thoughts and feelings about what they witnessed.
Science Fiction vs. Historical Fiction: Imagining Past and Future
Comparing science fiction to historical fiction reveals interesting parallels and divergences in the writing process. Think of the act of writing as building a bridge. Historical fiction constructs a bridge to the past, using beams of historical fact buttressed by imaginative cables. Science fiction builds a bridge to potential futures or alternate realities, using the scaffolding of current scientific understanding supported by speculative thought.
Science fiction writers engage in a different kind of research, tracking current scientific developments and theories to create plausible future scenarios. They exercise their critical thinking skills imaginatively by considering the potential long-term impacts of technological advancements or societal changes.
Historical fiction writers, as discussed earlier, must balance historical accuracy with narrative creativity. Both genres demand imagination, but science fiction often allows for more speculative leaps, while historical fiction must remain tethered to what was possible in the past.
Writing Science vs. Writing History: Documenting Human Knowledge
Finally, consider the differences between writing science and writing history. Both are forms of non-fiction aiming to represent aspects of our objective world, but—wait for it—their approaches differ.
Imagine science writing as a state-of-the-art digital camera, capturing whatever is in its lens with precision and clarity. It focuses sharply on the subject at hand, filtering out extraneous details and producing a clear, high-definition image of reality, even reality inaccessible to the human eye. The writing process involves describing methodologies, presenting data, and drawing conclusions based on evidence in unambiguous, unadorned prose, what many today call technical writing.
Historical writing is more like a mosaic. Historians piece together a coherent picture from fragments of information, some clear and some ambiguous. They interpret sources, consider contextual factors, and construct narratives or arguments that make sense of past events. The final image may have gaps or fuzzy areas, acknowledging the limitations of our knowledge about the past.
Teaching Across the Universe of Discourse
I could have compared and contrasted countless other discursive spaces writing fills, each with its own writing process, each writing process internalized by writers as chefs internalize recipes through reflective experience. Right now I’m feeling the urge to redo this thought process with other writing genres—differences in writing processes for writing a script for a film vs. a play for live theater. By recognizing that different types of writing demand different skills, approaches, and thought processes, we can better shape opportunities to learn in classrooms.
Learning to write is not about “the process” vs. “the product.” Instead, it's about developing the metalinguistic and metacognitive flexibility to adapt one's approach to the demands of different genres and purposes. It's like teaching students to be multi instrumentalists in their practice of writing, able to switch between different instruments as the situation demands.
By exposing students to various forms of writing and explicitly discussing the unique challenges and processes involved in each, we can foster more well-rounded, adaptable writers. Teachers during the age of Common Core can find curricular room if they look for it to embrace and celebrate the multifaceted nature of writing. Once students learn that nobody can do their writing for them—it’s absurd to think others can write for me—the insight will apply to generative AI.