Let me tell you something you’ve never heard before: applying to college is difficult. I know, shocking. From experience, I can tell you that college essays will be the hardest thing you’ve ever had to write. They require you to be self-effacing but proud, focused but well-rounded, eloquent but to the point, articulate but efficient, and all of this in less than 350 words (for most essays). It’s not easy. I’m not here to offer advice on specific topics, essay structure, or reassure you that you’ve done enough in other parts of your application (although you most certainly have). If you’re interested in that advice, feel free to reach out! But here and now, I want to talk about conquering the fear that accompanies essay writing—how to be confident that you wrote the best you could, and that if a school doesn’t like it, it’s their loss.
- Your best essay is only as good as your editor.
Believe it or not, proofreading is half the battle. Obviously, you’ve got to get some ideas on the paper and find something to write about, but you will absolutely need someone else to read over your shoulder and reassure you that it makes sense, or fix it when it doesn’t. Do not have more than two people edit your writing (per essay, but also in general). Find a trusted adult who won’t judge the content (probably not your parents). A good option is older cousins, English teachers, and college counselors. Also, find a peer who will be willing to listen to your endless concerns, read more than 15 essays, and be kind in their edits. You’ll never find an editor like Faith Gonia, who assisted me more than I can say in the college application process, but you certainly should try.
- Confidence is key.
I mentioned that your editors must be kind above. I can’t stress how important this will be. If you are not able to remain confident in your writing, you will procrastinate, stress, and turn in sub-par work. Obviously, you don’t need someone lying to your face that the three page essay you just wrote from the perspective of a caterpillar in the park when you were a child is good, but you do need someone willing to say, “I like where you’re going with this! Let’s take a closer look at some of the broad story ideas,” and proceed to delete the whole thing in the nicest way possible. Whether you consider yourself a good writer or not, adopt the mindset of one and push through. If you’re not satisfied with your work, how can you expect anyone else to be? Your thought process as you turn in each school’s application needs to be: “If they reject me, it’s because of my 4 on AP Calculus, not my writing” (or whatever works for you that DOES NOT BLAME YOUR WRITING).
- Remember that the PIQs want you to prove you’re a good fit, not a good writer.
The Personal Insight Questions, or PIQs, are required by the UC application, and do not expect some beautiful, symbolic story about your grandmother’s funeral. While I’m sure it led to personal growth, they want hard facts, straightforward language, and a genuine voice. The PIQs are sort of a nightmare (which is why everyone should take AP Literature, because Andy Evans is one of two reasons why my PIQs turned out good—Faith Gonia is the other), and should be treated as such. In fact, I recommend writing about what’s important to you, what represents your character, and then picking a prompt that fits. For example, my favorite PIQ was a long-winded explanation of why I love braiding hair. I wrote about how I learned dexterity, compassion, and patience, how I applied those lessons to my real life, and how it brought me closer to my family and teammates. And then I looked at the prompts and decided it was “close enough” to the creativity prompt. I barely even answered the question asked in that prompt, but it didn’t matter. Because the UCs don’t actually care about how you’re creative, or what challenges you’ve faced, or an important memory. They care about who you are as a person, what makes you tick, and how you take on life. Anything you can write about those topics can be made to fit the prompts.
- Don’t be afraid to re-use essays.
Absolutely re-use every essay you can. You’ll be doing so much writing, so much work, there is nothing wrong with killing two birds with one stone.
- Write about the things you are passionate about.
Passion, above all else, shines through in college essays. Don’t force yourself to write about the travel abroad volunteer program you took if you don’t feel strongly about how it changed you. Don’t write about donating at a blood drive if it was a terrible experience. If you have to force it, change it. Even if you can’t tell, your admissions officer and (hopefully) peer editor will absolutely be able to hear the dispassionate, disingenuous undertones.
- Tell the truth.
Just don’t say you did something you didn’t. If you get into an amazing school, but lied about rescuing a child from a burning house, you will live the rest of your life watching your back. You’re only cheating yourself and your entire future.
- Don’t forget about the word count.
While it is critical to get words on the paper just to get started, you can’t forget you have a word count. Trying to cut down 800 words (which really is not as much as it sounds, as we speak I’m at 919 words) to 350 is a special form of torture. Always keep in the back of your mind that you will have to cut down your writing, and don’t get carried away.
- No ranting, personal drama, or events that you might have forgotten about next week.
Avoid writing about anything other than yourself, especially if you’re thinking of writing about a fight you had with your best friend, the time your teacher yelled at you, or your thoughts on a new movie.
- If you’re unsure, change it.
If something doesn’t feel right, and the application isn’t due within 5 hours, you have plenty of time to change it. In the end, it is critical to feel good about what you’ve turned in. If you don’t feel good, don’t turn it in. I know this sounds simple and self-explanatory now, but when you start writing essays you’ll realize how easy it is to write an entire essay you really don’t like. Other people may read it and say it’s good, or it might have some really impressive vocabulary and structure, but if you feel uncomfortable with turning it in, don’t do it. Put your instinct above others’, unless they’re Faith Gonia—in that case, do whatever she says and you’ll be better off.
Writing essays may feel like hell. It certainly does when you try to write three supplements two hours before the deadline only to learn (as soon as you finish!) that it was, in fact, in East Coast time and the app was due literally three hours ago. That gets rough. I make no promises of any of this relieving stress, helping make you a better writer, or increasing your chances of getting into any school. My sole goal here is to ensure you feel confident in what you turn in, whether it’s the worst thing you’ve ever written or a work of art that belongs in the Louvre. I do promise that if you follow my advice to a tee, you will feel a deep inner peace when you turn in each application, knowing you did everything you could to write the perfect essay, and that if they don’t like it you wouldn’t have liked them. As they say—it’s not rejection, it’s redirection, and you, my friend, are on exactly the path you’re meant to take.