A Writing Revolution


Teaching Writing Backwards is the Key to Success

By Miriam Darnell

Growing up a gifted/learning-disabled child afforded me the unexpected privilege of discovering new regions of my brain that few have ever explored. Because of this, I've come to look at the world upside-down and backwards. This different point of view comes in handy when teaching Language Arts to unique learners in my online Druidawn creative writing clubs.

Creative writing is my favorite thing to do and my favorite thing to teach. And it was my favorite activity when I was a young child too, though it’s anyone’s guess why. I was a terrible speller. I couldn't sequence to save my life, and with my poor memory, I tended to lose track of where my story was supposed to be going. On top of this, my teachers dwelled endlessly on the importance of good grammar, punctuation, sentence structure and how to spot a verb, as if those were the only significant aspects of writing. This teaching style only served to make me feel like the actual words I was trying to express were unimportant.

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Though I was bursting inside with stories to tell, I was never taught how to structure a riveting plot that would keep my readers interested. I was never taught how to create vibrant characters and describe tangible settings and add symbolism and nuance to my stories, which to me ARE the important aspects of writing.

Story writing for me was feeling around in the dark with no guidance, other than how to put properly spelled words in proper order on paper and make sure the periods were in the right places. I couldn't make my readers care about what it was that my words were saying. I had incredible stories with realistic characters playing out grand scenarios in my mind all the time, but no idea how to breathe life into them on paper, or how to make other people see what I saw in my mind's eye.

Despite all of these disadvantages, I continued to write for my own pleasure all through my school years. No thanks to some of my Language Arts teachers, who, if I hadn't had such an internal drive to write, would have quickly driven all interest in writing out of me in the first year. I learned my grammar all right, which came in quite handy especially when writing technical papers, but until just recently, I didn't know how to put two words together that had an emotional effect on my readers. A mechanically perfect paper devoid of decent content is nothing but a showcase of surface knowledge.

Now I know these things, but only because I've had great writing mentors in my adult years who have instructed me in the concepts. My sheer drive to write has guided me toward finding the help I needed on my own.

Many children aren't so lucky as to have an internal drive to write. When they have a writing disability and all they are taught is the horribly dry and seemingly pointless method of mechanically correct writing, they lose their creativity and imagination; they lose the joy of just expressing themselves and telling a good story.

I'm not saying that grammar and spelling aren't important. Of course they are, but writing, just like math or science, has to be taught with the application of the skill being just as important as the skill itself.

As the founder and co-director of Druidawn, I teach creative writing backwards, the way I wish it had been taught to me. Backwards, meaning the application of the skill before the perfection of the skill. There was a time when stories weren't written at all. Spelling and grammar didn't exist. What was important was the story itself…the characters, the plot, the setting, the drama with which the story was relayed to a captive audience. 

In my family, Sunday nights were always reserved for read-aloud time. My mother, Linda Silverman, read to the family from a cherished novel, and we were carried away by the amazing fantasy worlds that unfolded for us. I was always so surprised by how different the experience was for me when Mom finished a book, and I loved it so much that I read it again to myself. It never sounded or looked the same. The process of decoding words on paper when reading a story can diminish the narrative in so many ways. Just as focusing on mechanics in writing, especially in the first draft, can cause a writer to lose sight of the story and the characters, the things that matter most.

So, to get back to the roots, the essence of the story and the character, the things that matter the most, I created a game. The game is so different from the typical writing process taught in schools, that our students don't even know that we’ve tricked them into writing and enjoying it. The interaction and sheer fun of the game is a wonderful disguise. It frees them from the mechanics of putting words on paper and allows them to create the stories that live in their imaginations, a place where words are heard and scenes are visualized, but little is actually written at first.

In the game, we start with a character sheet. A very long, detailed character sheet, where the only thing the students have to do is fill in the blanks. But the questions posed on the sheet cause young writers to think about their characters on a much deeper level than what they're used to. They can't play the game until they have a fully fleshed-out person on paper who grabs them emotionally. Next, we start the story.​

The story is presented in a completely verbal, interactive format. The game leader, or Legend Guardian, places the newly made characters into an imaginary setting, with a plot already planned. The setting is described in great detail, as settings should be, and then the conflict, the goal, and the reward for achieving the goal are all presented to the players. The players then set off on an imaginary adventure, led by the Legend Guardian, during which time they fight monsters, find treasures, discover new places, use teamwork to solve problems, practice social skills with each other and with imaginary characters created by the Legend Guardian, learn practical survival skills that can actually be applied to the real world, and increase their critical thinking skills as well as their understanding of cause and effect. Finally, the ending comes when the players achieve their goal and gain the reward. This game is played with nothing but paper and dice.

When the game starts, students who were tense in the beginning when they learned that they would be doing creative writing in Druidawn, begin to relax and enjoy themselves. The pressure is off. This is fun!

The game part offers students a setting and a plot to use in their stories if they don't have any ideas of their own of what to write. But it is also a great lure. They don't realize that they already have been writing a story just by playing the game. The only thing they haven't done is translate it into words on paper yet.

​Now here's the catch. The only way their characters can move up levels and become more powerful in the game is to write. Words are like money in Druidawn. They're very valuable. The more words they write, the stronger their characters become. Kids understand the process of moving up levels. It's the basis of every video game and role-playing game they participate in during their free time. I'm not particular about exactly what words they use at first, as long as they’re communicating something that makes sense. And I never check their spelling or grammar.

The only rule is that whatever they're writing must be something they're willing to share with me and (if they’re not too shy) with their writing club. Kids tend to write their best work when they have to share it with others. They'll write stories or poetry that matter to them. They'll also hear the flaws in their own work if they read it aloud to their clubmates. The flaws might bother them enough that they'll want to improve the words, so they sound better. And THAT'S where the mechanics come into play… later, in the second draft of their story, at a time when they've come to care about the words that are on their paper. When they want it to not only sound good but look good as well. That's when I teach the more advanced writing technique concepts to show them that there are millions of ways to manipulate words to get exactly what you want out of them. I like to show them how many fun ways there are to add depth to their work so that others will cherish the stories that they write. Oh, and incidentally, they get to count their words for double points when they edit and improve their work.

The only way to get children to care about written mechanics (unless they're natural writers who are self-driven) is to get them to care about the stories they've created first. Writing is an emotional process. If you're not emotionally attached to your characters and your story, you're certainly not going to care if it looks good on paper or not.

To summarize, in the game, the volume of words written is the key to moving up levels. Children will care more about these words because they have to write something they'd be proud to share with the group. The editing and mechanics come in later once they're hooked enough on their stories to seek out ways to perfect them. Finally, if they're really into learning all they can, they are taught the art form of writing (adding symbolism and metaphor to give the words depth and meaning).

Druidawn teaches writing backwards. But it works to turn non-writers into writers like nothing else out there.

Since its incarnation in 1990 (yes, Druidawn has been around for 33 years now!), we have served over 8,000 students in our online writing clubs and summer camps. Thanks to the addition of our co-director, art designer and publisher, Cara Allen, Druidawn has grown from just a few loose papers, to a slick 228 page Gamers’ Manual (now in its third edition), a 300 page compendium of The World of Druidawn, 5 published anthologies of our students’ stories, a new travel/party game called Speculation, the introduction of Druidawn Academy [our 501(c)3 non-profit scholarship program], an interactive website and a flourishing community of over 100 current students, many of whom are profoundly gifted writers who love fantasy, who intend to publish someday, and who have found their clan through Druidawn.


Miriam Silverman Darnell has a master’s degree in special education and has been a language arts teacher for 36 years in various public and private schools in Colorado, Illinois, and Maryland. She and Cara Allen direct the online Druidawn writing clubs and offer summer workshops and private tutoring for creative children all over the world. For more information, please see the Druidawn website.

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