College · Seniors

Personal essay practice

Stand out on your college applications by getting comfy writing about your emotions.

Short answer

Even though essays are considered to be a third of your application—as important as all of your grades and test scores combined—most students have never written about themselves before. Writing college essays takes a skillset completely different from the analytical essays you write in school.

Through a series of writing prompts and short readings, this guide will walk you through developing that skillset.

How this works

For each prompt, you’re going to write a one page-ish response that’s concise, flowing, and emotional. Your goal is to present an idea, and make that presentation more interesting with a personal experience or your own feelings. Unlike an analytical essay you write in school, you’re encouraged to use “I.”

Emotion elevates essays into passionate, compelling arguments and powerful, evocative ideas. A personal touch adds humanness to writing. Look at two versions of the next concept, which explains why.

  1. Emotion elevates essays into passionate, compelling arguments and powerful, evocative ideas. A personal touch adds humanness to writing.
  2. I spent high school scribbling together bland, “persuasive” essays that I knew wouldn’t persuade anyone—or be read by anyone other than my teacher. It felt silly to write something only my teacher would ever read, and the only page of USA Swimming magazine I’d read: the comic strip. The difference between this writing and mine wasn’t anything profound or unexplainable: the authors just cared. Passion elevated their paragraphs from solid arguments to compelling stories, from logical ideas to emotionally resonant messages. I wanted to do the same.

I wrote the second version by saying how I felt about writing instead of focusing on the objective truth (I was unhappy writing school papers vs. emotion makes essays great). I cut out all the phrases that work in conversation, but don’t add meaning to my writing (“or even be read by anyone other than my teacher… I wasn’t all that proud of my work.”) I included phrases that made it clear the writing was personal (“novels I loved”). I tied back to my main argument, that emotions make essays human, and therefore better.

I wrote the first version before the second, but I had the emotions described in the second version long before I tied them to an argument.

Sketch of a one-page response titled “My Poem Piece”: pink squiggles throughout mark personal connections, and each paragraph’s circled idea points to a note reading “focuses on one, tiny topic.”
How a response might look if you circle the personal connections in pink—with everything on the page focusing on the topic.

Exercise 1

Respond to a simple prompt, then—feelings

An introduction to writing about yourself.

You might be asked to write an argument or talk about an idea, tell a story or—as with this prompt, teach a skill:

You’ll have to bring in your emotions and experience to do the pink part.

  • if you have a bullet pointed list of steps, you could say “(My favorite step!)” in one of them
  • if you are talking about a hard part, you could interject, “This was really frustrating when I first tried it.”
  • you could share a personal story or funny moment
  • you could talk about what motivates you to practice the skill

Any skill you know—from how to juggle to how to find good animal pictures online—is worth teaching, but choose a topic you care about—that’ll make it easier to get the reader excited! You’ll have plenty of emotion, anecdotes, and ideas to weave in. Your final product doesn’t have to be exactly a page (notice how I’m not specifying spacing, margins, or font), but try to write something that responds to the prompt in a concise and emotionally compelling way.

To better understand what a good final product looks like, let’s take a close read of a few examples ranging from “I wrote this in five minutes” to exemplar. Look for what they did well and what could be improved on, then write your own!

Further practice

  • A time you broke the rules
  • A time you tried something new
  • A time you built something
  • A joke about your life as a ninth grader
  • A yard sign with you running for school committee president
  • Your manifesto about why some system or institution should change
  • Snow
  • Write about a memory, pretending it’s happening this second

Exercise 2

Ask “recursive why” questions

A multimedia activity on sports.

“Everyone has a swimming story to tell,” Bonnie Tsui says in her book, Why We Swim. Do you have one? More importantly, why do we—as humans—swim? What draws us to the water? Take a few minutes to think. If swimming’s really not your thing, you can follow this exercise with any hobby, sport, or activity you enjoy.

I wanted an answer—I was a teenager who had spent half his time in the water and suddenly realized he had no idea why. Tsui’s book covers many of the physical, social, and emotional reasons humans swim, but none of the answers resonated with me.

Tsui was asking a different question. She explained why humans as a whole swim: her general answers couldn’t perfectly match my specific question, why do I swim? Neither question is wrong, but they are different. If you think in terms of who, what, when, where, why, and how, this is who.

Let’s try to find an answer by breaking each question into parts. Why humans swim is very broad: you can imagine Tsui writing a whole book on it. Why I swim is narrower, but still a very large question: You’d have to deconstruct ten years of my life to answer, going into different teams I swam for, different strokes, different emotions… wait a second. We’re on to something here.

We can answer broad questions by breaking them up into parts. Say I wrote a one sentence essay, “I swim because it makes me happy.” That would be lame. The natural follow up question would be, “Why does it make you happy?” Well, the community of friends on my team make me happy, exercising makes me happy, and I like feeling weightless in the water. Here’s the recursive part, where we repeatedly ask deeper and deeper “Why?” questions: Why does your swimming community make you happy? Why does exercising? Why does weightlessness? Now we have three much narrower essay topics that we can dig into.

This recursive why concept applies on the idea level and on the paragraph level. Let’s take a look at an unpolished example:

The feeling of weightlessness while I swim makes me happy. Ever since I injured my knees, I have walked slowly, and with a slight limp. I haven’t felt jumpy and excited on land anymore because of the physical pain associated with any physical display of emotion. In the water, weightlessness means being pain free: there’s no pressure on my knees. All the emotions anyone experiences when they swim—excitement, focus, frustration, boredom—I can express physically. As a result, swimming is my cathartic outlet.

Making precise, sentence-by-sentence arguments requires explaining each step. For each sentence, if there’s a non-obvious “why?” question worth asking, answer it! Go through the paragraph and ask questions that will make the paragraph stronger.

The feeling of weightlessness while I swim makes me happy.

This is the paragraph’s topic sentence, but it is too short! It doesn’t clarify why weightlessness makes me happy, forcing the reader to go into the rest of the paragraph blind. Let’s keep reading to find a compelling phrase we can add.

Ever since I injured my knees, I have walked slowly, and with a slight limp.

There’s no “why” question worth asking here. This sentence states a fact. I could talk about why I injured my knees, for example, but it wouldn’t be relevant to this paragraph’s argument.

I haven’t felt jumpy and excited on land anymore because of the physical pain associated with any physical display of emotion.

This sentence covers a lot of ground very quickly. Why is there physical pain associated with expressing emotion? Why does the pain of expressing the emotion stop me from feeling it? Let’s give it another go.

Ever since I injured my knees, I have walked slowly, and with a slight limp. I haven’t felt jumpy and excited on land anymore I used to be a physically expressive person: giving my friends piggy back rides, walking with some pep in my step when I’m in a good mood, and playing land sports in my free time. When pain got in the way of that, I didn’t just stop acting out my emotions, I stopped feeling them as intensely. because of the physical pain associated with any physical display of emotion. Unable to express myself on land, I started relying on another outlet.

In yellow are places where the reader will implicitly ask “why?” and “how?” In green are tactics I used to explain. I added transitional phrases: “I used to be” ties this sentence to the previous one—the original version felt like a separate thought; “Unable to express myself on land” takes the reader from my statement of fact in the previous sentence (“I stopped feeling emotions as intensely”) to an argument that was previously unclear (Why did not expressing my emotions stifle them?). I also gave examples: what does being “jumpy and excited on land” mean? This was a place readers would get confused.

In the water, weightlessness means being pain free: there’s no pressure on my knees.

The colon is highlighted because again, it’s a place where the “why” is expressed. This sentence is already solid.

All the emotions anyone experiences when they swim—excitement, focus, frustration, boredom—I can express physically. As a result, swimming is my cathartic outlet.

These sentences already use examples and clear explanations. In this concluding sentence, the “why” works in reverse. “Swimming is my cathartic outlet” because of all the reasons I’ve laid out in the paragraph.

Now, we have some more context on what the topic sentence should look like. Try to rewrite it yourself! Don’t be afraid to tap into the recursive part. We only did one revision, but you can work through several, asking more precise why questions and deciding whether an answer would strengthen the argument.

Logical arguments are only one approach: especially when discussing an abstract question like why we swim, emotional claims are as valuable as practical ones. If I wrote about seven scientific studies on how the feeling of weight correlates with depression, it might be a logical argument, but readers won’t be able to relate to it.

Exercise 3

Where is the beauty in ordinary things?

Describing the same object or event in many ways.

For a raunchy, scribbling beep-bop almost fantasy, read chapters 12 & 13 of On the Road. Then, if you like this, check out Mañana Means Heaven from your local library.

The essence of a description: haiku

Read these three, then flesh one of them out into a full paragraph.

Dim light in the velvet room,
Jazz should be playing—
Instead, a murmur.

Shattered windows cry,
there was once dancing here!—
fog rises higher.

fake plants and distance,
unconquerable distance—
estranged eyes meet

Examples

The room was full of quiet mystery. The patterns on the walls were half-hidden by flowing curtains. The lighting was too dim to make out the latticework’s details. Even its acoustics, which provided a quiet reverberation that removed the need for music, seemed to invite a murmur. This silky velvet ambience gave the room a certain poise, filling the guests with deference and the waiters with discretion. The food could turn abysmal and people would dine here no less frequently, so captivating was this air of majesty, of one vast, infinite unknowable secret.
The lighting barely illuminated the dusty velvet the entire room was draped in. Thick curtains made the room humid and dense, though the jagged glass only hung at the muntins of the windows. Where the source of the light was the brightest, etched marks on the floor glowed, scratches that perhaps were created from shoes. The aged grandeur and size of the room certainly helped that suspicion.

Exercise 4

Engaging readers from the start

Read Ann Patchett’s “These Precious Days” in Harper’s.

What is the essay about? What is her literal advice for writing—and how does she craft an effective story? What keeps you reading?

Finished the essay? One final, critical question

After hearing everybody complain about the same problems they had with Covid and being bored to death about it—why does her “Covid Essay” work?

Keep practicing

Write a lot. Read a lot—personal essays if you can find them, but all published writing has an exceptional quality to it. Every piece is unique, but they share so many things in common. Discover all of that. Analyze the choices they make in every sentence and paragraph. Emulate them until you don’t need them anymore. Treat your application like a work of art because it really can be beautiful.

If you’re out of ideas about your own personal experiences, write about someone else’s. Here’s a collection of ideas—believable absurdities, I’d call them—to use as prompts: Harper’s Weekly Review.

Find your own resources for inspiring great writing on all levels: words, sentences, paragraphs, and ideas. And when you’re ready to polish, run every draft through the college essay checklist.