In the complex instructional landscape of literacy, the profound connection between reading and writing is a central tenet. This article explores the specific, interdependent relationship between early reading and early writing, framing them not as separate subjects but as ‘two sides of the same coin’. The goal of literacy instruction is, of course, comprehension and composition; however, there can be no reading comprehension without word reading, nor conventional written composition without word writing. Understanding their shared foundations and development is therefore essential for effective teaching practice.

Students’ abilities in word reading and word writing develop along a continuum, moving through distinct phases that are greatly facilitated by systematic instruction. For word reading, this progression is often conceptualised in five phases:

1. Pre-alphabetic phase: The child approaches words as visual wholes, using clues like logos, without understanding the alphabetic principle. For example, “McDonalds!”
2. Partial alphabetic phase: The child begins to use some letter-sound knowledge, often focusing on initial and final sounds.
3. Full alphabetic phase: The child can form connections between all graphemes in a word and their corresponding phonemes.
4. Consolidated alphabetic phase: The child starts to recognise and use consolidated letter sequence units (e.g. -ight, re-) rather than decoding letter by letter.
5. Automaticity phase: Word reading becomes accurate, fast, and effortless, as words are recognised by sight without conscious analysis.

A similar progression occurs in word writing development, which can be understood through five stages:

1. Emergent/precommunicative: The child hasn’t yet got an understanding of the systematic relationship between letters and sounds. To see the stages of emergent writing, click here.

2. Letter name: The child begins using letter-sound knowledge, but accuracy is usually limited to consonants and short vowels.

• cat → ct (child writes the consonants, may omit vowels)
• dog → dg
• sun → sn
• bat → bt

3. Within word: The child can spell most single-syllable words but struggles with more complex patterns like silent long-vowels.

• make → mak or make (may omit the silent e)
• home → hom
• bike → bik
• read → red or reed (confusion with long-vowel spelling patterns)

4. Syllables and affixes: Errors typically occur at syllable junctures or in unaccented syllables.

• hoping → hopeing (error at the syllable juncture where the silent “e” should be dropped)
• running → runing (omitting the doubled consonant at the syllable break)
• family → famly (dropping an unaccented syllable)
• different → diffrent (leaving out the unstressed middle syllable)

5. Derivational relations: Errors are most common with low-frequency, multisyllabic words involving derivational morphemes.

• electricity → eletricity (dropping a syllable within a derived form)
• responsibility → responsiblity (omitting the derivational suffix syllable)
• biological → bioligical (confusing the placement of the derivational suffix -ical)
• nation → natian (misapplying the derivational -ion pattern)

It is important to note that these developmental phases are not rigid, and children will move between these stages depending on the specific word they wish to write.

The shared foundations: Emergent literacy skills

The development of both word reading and word writing is contingent upon a set of foundational emergent literacy skills. These skills are drawn upon for both decoding (reading) and encoding (writing), which explains why the two abilities are so strongly correlated. The three critical skills are:

1. Phonological awareness: This is the knowledge and awareness of the sound structure of language, from larger units like syllables down to the smallest units, phonemes. This skill is essential because English is an alphabetic writing system, where symbols primarily represent speech sounds.

• Big sounds: Children can detect or segment the larger parts of words, like the ‘claps’ (syllables) in a word. For example, ‘but-ter-fly’ has three claps.
• Rhyming parts: They can hear smaller parts, like the rhyme in a word. In ‘cat’, they can hear the ‘at’ part.
• Tiny sounds: They can hear the tiniest sounds (phonemes) in a word. They can hear that ‘cat’ is made of three sounds: /k/ /æ/ /t/

2. Orthographic awareness: This refers to the knowledge of print concepts, graphemes (the letters or groups of letters like sh or augh that represent sounds), and the permissible spelling patterns of the language. This is the skill of knowing all about letters and printed words.

• Letter shapes and names: Children learn what each letter looks like and what it is called.
• Letter teams: Children learn that sometimes letters work together to make one sound. For example, the letters ‘s’ and ‘h’ team up to make the /ʃ/ sound in ship. This combination of letters that represents one sound is called a grapheme.

3. Morphological awareness: This is the understanding of morphemes, the smallest units of meaning in words (e.g., re-, -act, -s in reacts). This awareness is particularly crucial in English, a morphophonological system where meaning-based units can override apparent phonological patterns (e.g. recognising re- and act in react prevents it from being misread as /rikt/). 

• For example, the word ‘cats’ has two meaning parts: ‘cat’ (the animal) and ‘-s’ (which means more than one).
• The word ‘redo’ has two meaning parts: ‘re-’ (which means do again) and ‘do’.
• Knowing these parts helps children read and spell big words, like ‘photosynthesis’ or ‘incredible’

Principles and practices for reading and writing instruction

The shared foundation of early reading and writing has critical implications for instruction. First, because they draw on the same skills, integrated teaching has a synergistic effect: teaching writing promotes reading development, and teaching decoding promotes encoding development. Second, a student who is weak in one is very likely to be weak in the other. However, it is important to recognise they are not identical; word writing requires production and greater precision of a word’s mental representation, making it typically more difficult than the recognition task of reading.

Effective instruction is built upon several core pedagogical principles. Teachers should employ differentiated instruction based on ongoing assessment to meet children’s varying needs and rates of learning (see here for more). It is also vital to consider students’ diverse linguistic backgrounds, recognising that foundational principles of literacy instruction are effective for all children when teachers understand and value their language experiences (see here for more). Finally, instruction should be delivered using evidence-based approaches, namely explicit and systematic teaching that provides structured modelling and scaffolding, such as the I Do, We Do, You Do model (see here for more). For example: 

• I Do: First, you model exactly what to do. For example, you show children how you are using your sound mat to help you encode the words you want to write in the picturebook you’re making.  “I want to write ‘cat’. I hear three sounds: /k/ /æ/ /t/. The first sound is /k/. That can be a ‘c’ or a ‘k’. I’ll use the ‘c’ on my sound mat. The next sound is /æ/. That’s an ‘a’. There it is on the sound mat. The last sound is /t/. That’s a ‘t’. Let me write it: c-a-t. Yes, that’s what it looks like when I see it in books!”
• We Do: Next, you do it together. The children use their sound mats to help them encode the words they want to write in their picturebook that day.
• You Do: Finally, the children continue to use their sound mats when making picturebooks on their own during provision.

Here’s another example:

• I Do: You show children how, when you really want to write a word, but you don’t know all the grapheme-phoneme correspondences yet, you use ‘kid writing’ as a replacement. “When I was your age, and I wanted to write a really cool word, and I didn’t know all my sounds yet, I used to do this. Watch. I want to write ‘dinosaurs’. I can hear the first sound: /d/. That’s the letter ‘d’. I’ll write that. Next, I hear /aɪ/ I don’t know all the ways to spell that sound yet, so I’ll just write the letter ‘i’. Then I hear ‘no’ like the word ‘no’. After that, I can hear lots of sounds, but I don’t know how to write them yet, so I’ll just use ‘kid writing’ for those. At the end, I can hear /s/. That’s the letter ‘s’. So my ‘kid writing’ says: d-i-no-〰〰-s. It’s not the same as the adult spelling, but it shows all the sounds I do know! This way, we can still write all our wonderful ideas and share our stories.”
• We Do: Next, you do it together. The children use their sound mats and ‘kid writing’ to encode their more ambitious or complex vocabulary in their picturebook that day.
• You Do: Finally, the children continue to use ‘kid writing’ and their sound mats when making picturebooks on their own during provision.

Finally, one last example:

• I Do: You show children how, when you want to write a tricky word that doesn’t follow the usual sound–letter patterns, you use the word wall to help you. “Ah, watch this! I really want to write the word ‘said’ in my picturebook. Hmm… if I try to sound it out, I might think it’s s-e-d. But I know that ‘said’ is one of our tricky words, and it’s on our word wall. Let’s look. Here it is: s-a-i-d. I can copy it from the wall into my writing. Now my sentence looks just like it does in books.”
• We Do: Next, you do it together. The children use the word wall to copy down any common tricky words in their picturebook that day.
• You Do: Finally, the children continue to use the word wall independently to spell tricky words while they are making picturebooks during provision.

Using this routine every day can help children feel safe and confident in learning new strategies and skills.

Research-supported recommendations

Based on these principles, four key recommendations emerge for effective, integrated word reading and word writing instruction:

Teach phonological awareness and grapheme–phoneme correspondences. This involves systematic instruction in manipulating sounds (e.g. blending, segmenting) and explicit teaching of letter formation. Letter instruction should focus on frequent exposure, making name-sound connections explicit, teaching visually similar letters non-sequentially, and building automaticity in both recognition and letter writing (see here for more).

Model chunking. As students progress, they must learn to process chunks larger than individual graphemes. This includes modelling (1) common rime units or phonograms (e.g. -ock, -ight, -ean), (2) syllable types:

• Closed syllables (CVC): cat, hop, pen
• Open syllables (CV): he, go, me
• Vowel-consonant-e (VCe): make, bike, hope
• Unaccented final syllables: table, pencil, cabin

and (3) morphemes (e.g., prefixes, suffixes, roots)

• Prefixes: un- (undo, unhappy), re- (redo, rewrite)
• Suffixes: -ful (hopeful, careful), -less (hopeless, fearless)
• Roots: struct (construct, destruct, structure), port (transport, portable, import)

Activities like word sorts and word building are highly effective for this work.

Model decoding and encoding. Foundational skills must be explicitly applied to the acts of reading and writing. An analytic approach should be used even for irregular words, focusing on the parts that do follow predictable patterns (e.g. the sh and d in should). Teachers should view informed spelling not merely as an error, but as a valuable window into a student’s current knowledge and a crucial opportunity for them to practise applying grapheme-phoneme correspondences.

Incorporate connected texts. Children should be regularly invited to use and apply these skills in the context of meaningful reading and writing experiences. The use of decodable and high-quality commercial texts provides beginning readers with opportunities to practise taught patterns in a supportive context. Similarly, students should be encouraged to apply their ever developing encoding knowledge in daily book-making time (see here for more), reinforcing the connection between skill acquisition and authentic communication.

In conclusion, word reading and word writing are inextricably linked skills that are foundational to all later literacy development. By providing explicit, systematic, and integrated instruction that targets their shared underpinnings, teachers can capitalise on their relationship and build a robust foundation for students’ success in both reading and writing.

Recommended further reading

• Feldgus, E. G., Cardonick, I., & Gentry, J. R. (2017). Kid writing in the 21st century: A systematic approach to phonics, spelling, and writing workshop. Hameray Publishing Group
• Kim, Y. S. G. (2022). A Tale of Two Closely Related Skills: Word Reading and Spelling Development and Instruction. In Z. A. Philippakos & S. Graham (Eds.), Writing and reading connections: Bridging research and practice. Guilford Press
• Kim, Y. S. G. (2022) Co-Occurrence of Reading and Writing Difficulties: The Application of the Interactive Dynamic Literacy Model, Journal of Learning Disabilities, 00222194211060868
• Ray, K. W., & Glover, M. (2008). Already ready. NH: Heinemann

Improving children’s reading AND writing: Connecting research and practice

Four online sessions focusing on children’s reading and writing will take place in November and December from 4pm – 5pm. These sessions are designed for UK primary school teachers, primary school leaders, literacy leads and education consultants. 

ThE sessions are designed to provide research insights to support children’s reading and writing acquisition and development. With a focus on supporting both reading and writing skill, all those attending will have greater access and insight into contemporary research to inform their classroom practice.

Participants will gain insight into implications for practice, a curated collection of key open access research articles and, if all four sessions are attended, a certificate of completion.

Sessions can be booked individually for £15 each or all four sessions can be booked at a discounted price of £50.

Sessions overview

Session 1: Learning to read – Thursday 20 November 2025, 16:00-17:00pm 

Delivered by Professor Sarah McGeown

This session highlights the core skills underpinning reading development, research-informed practice to support children’s word reading, and the importance of nurturing an early love and interest in books, words, and stories. 

Session 2: Reading motivation and engagement – Thursday 27 November 2025, 16:00-17:00pm 

This session provides insight into the importance of reading motivation and engagement throughout primary school, research-informed principles to support reading engagement, and the reading, language, social and emotional benefits accrued from reading.

Session 3: Learning to write – Thursday 4 December 2025, 16:00-17:00pm 

Delivered by Ross Young

This session explores key aspects of writing development, research-informed strategies to support children as apprentice writers, and the importance of nurturing a lifelong love of writing.

Session 4: Writing motivation and engagement – Thursday 11 December 2025, 16:00-17:00pm 

This session provides insight into the importance of writing motivation and engagement throughout primary school, research-informed principles to support children’s engagement with writing, and the social, emotional, and expressive benefits gained through the experience of being a young writer.

Biographies

Professor Sarah McGeown is Director of the University of Edinburgh’s Literacy Lab. She has published widely in academic and professional journals, with research focusing on early reading acquisition and development to motivation and engagement in reading. She is an advocate for research-practice partners and closing the gap between research and practice to improve children’s reading experiences and outcomes. 

Ross Young is a former primary school teacher and co-founder of The Writing for Pleasure Centre. His work focuses on translating writing research into effective classroom practice, and he regularly collaborates with teachers and children in schools. He has written several books on teaching writing and leads professional development through organisations such as the UKLA. Ross is currently a PhD researcher at the University of Edinburgh’s Literacy Lab, studying children’s writing lives in partnership with the National Literacy Trust. 

The myth

A persistent education myth claims that young children shouldn’t begin writing because ‘their bones aren’t ready’ or because they first need to perfect their gross and fine motor skills. According to this argument, letter formation and handwriting instruction should wait until a child’s hand bones are fully ossified or their motor coordination is deemed ‘mature enough.’

The evidence

1. Bone development is certainly not a barrier to basic writing movements.
Research on hand anatomy shows that children’s bones are still developing but ossification is not required for the basic movements involved in early writing (LINK). Even with flexible cartilage, young children are physically capable of drawing, engaging in emergent writing, and beginning letter formation.

2. Emergent writing is developmentally appropriate and essential.
Emergent writing includes scribbles, mock letters, and informed spellings. It is a normal, developmentally appropriate stage of writing development observed across cultures (LINK). Through emergent writing, children experiment with making meaning while learning more about conventional ‘adult writing’ and beginning explicit letter formation and handwriting instruction. Emergent writing kills dead the ‘motor skills first’ argument entirely. For more on this, I can highly recommend these two publications:

3. Fine motor skills and handwriting develop together, not in isolation.
Writing researchers have shown through meta-analyses that activities that only focus on gross and fine motor exercises — without letter formation and handwriting instruction — do not significantly improve children’s handwriting (LINK). Children can develop their motor control by actually writing, not just by cutting, beading, or doing unrelated fine motor tasks. The best place for children to develop their motor skills for writing is by writing!

What this means for practice

• ✅ Offer emergent writing opportunities as early as possible: Provide children with crayons, chunky pencils, regular pencils, markers, and blank picturebooks. Understand children’s marks as being their early writing.
• ✅ Integrate handwriting instruction gradually: Provide letter-formation instruction and meaningful writing tasks — for example book-making (LINK).
• ✅ Support motor development within context: Strengthen small-muscle control through motor skill activities, handwriting instruction and authentic writing projects, rather than relying on motor exercises alone.
• ❌ Don’t demand perfect cursive or flawless handwriting from very young children: The goal is accuracy and fluency, not adherence to a particular handwriting style.

The bottom line

Emergent writing + letter formation and handwriting instruction + motor skill activities + meaningful writing opportunities provide the strongest bridge to fluent handwriting and writing success.

The ‘bones aren’t ready’ and ‘motor skills first’ argument oversimplifies child development and risks delaying important writerly experiences. Rather than waiting for perfect motor skills or ossified bones, we should nurture children’s natural curiosity and give them real reasons to write (and learn more about writing) from the very start [LINK].

We’re delighted to announce that we’re collaborating with HFL Education and UK Literacy Association’s School Of The Year Elmhurst Primary School to bring you our new training: Getting Writing Right: What the Evidence Says.

Join us for a day of learning!

About this course

Held at Elmhurst Primary School in London, this training will equip teachers and leaders to understand what the latest evidence and research concerning quality writing teaching is.   

The day will consider how schools can ensure that all children make maximised progress in writing.  The essential features of writing teaching will be discussed, such as: 

• How to set rigorous writing goals
• How to plan a class writing project with the greater-depth standard as the standard
• What’s involved in delivering an effective writing lesson
• How to deliver sentence-level and grammar instruction
• How to connect reading and writing profitably.

Learning Outcomes

• Have a secure understanding of what the evidence and research says around effective writing teaching
• Be given practical ideas and strategies for writing teaching to use in the primary classroom immediately
• Be equipped with greater confidence and subject knowledge concerning the teaching of writing

Additional Information

09:30 – 15:30 – 16/10/2025

Lunch & refreshments will be provided.

Schools will also receive a school license (worth £54.75) for our latest eBook How To Teach Writing.

On the 8h of July 2025, the Department for Education published its non-statutory guidance document entitled The Writing Framework. It purports to draw from the best available evidence about teaching writing.

The mission of The Writing For Pleasure Centre is to help all young people become passionate and successful writers. As a think tank for exploring what world-class writing is and could be, a crucial part of our work is analysing emerging governmental policy. It is therefore important that we issue a response to what this document has to say.

Overall conclusion
While most of the recommendations in this policy paper are welcome, the document at times presents contradictions and remains notably incomplete.

Our aim is not to let this review slip into unproductive criticism, but rather to offer constructive additions that we hope will add value. We therefore encourage anyone seeking to develop world-class writing instruction to engage with the research cited before making changes to their teaching practices or commercial offerings.

As Writing For Pleasure teachers, we are lucky enough to witness the transformative journey a pupil’s writing goes on – from their initial idea to its final publication or performance. However, a crucial, yet sometimes overlooked, stage in this process is revision. 

Revision is about re-seeing, re-thinking, reviewing, and otherwise re-envisioning drafted writing, offering children the privilege to splash around in their existing text and to be playful and take risks. For children to truly develop as writers, developing an effective approach to revision is paramount. This is because, at this stage in the writing process, children have the cognitive space to tackle higher-order writerly techniques.

One impactful strategy is the use of revision checklist sessions.

What are revision checklists?

Revision checklists are powerful tools derived from the product goals (success criteria) you established collaboratively with your class at the beginning of a writing project. These product goals represent all the great craft moves you identified from the high-quality mentor texts you studied together¹. These are the things you and the class want to achieve in their compositions, often extending far beyond mere grammatical features. 

Having been taught all these craft moves during the drafting phase, the checklist serves as a guide, prompting children to reflect on whether they have indeed incorporated these desired craft moves into their own writing.

How they are created and look

As the name suggests, a revision checklist lists the product goals on the left-hand side. On the right, children indicate if they have used the craft move in their writing. If a craft move hasn’t been used, they can demonstrate how they could have used it on their ‘revision and trying things out page’. This approach ensures that revision is a proactive, reflective process rather than a punitive one.

Here’s an example of a double-sided revision checklist for a Year Four short story project. None of the items on this checklist were a surprise to the children. All of the craft moves were modelled and taught during the drafting stage of a class writing project. 

The benefits of revision checklist sessions

Implementing revision checklist sessions offers numerous benefits, backed by significant research:

• Increased academic progress: When children are given specific time to revise their compositions for quality, it can lead to a positive effect size of +0.64². Moreover, inviting children to evaluate their writing against class-generated product goals yields a remarkable effect size of +2.03². An effect size above +0.4 is generally considered to have a significant positive impact on children’s writing progress.

• Improved confidence, self-concept and independence: These sessions increase children’s sense of confidence in their writing abilities³. Children also develop a feeling of competence and an ability to write well independently, reducing reliance on constant adult intervention⁴. Students gain a feeling of ownership over their writing and the choices they make about its content and style.

• Increased motivation: Children understand the ‘why’ behind their writing choices, leading to a deeper desire to produce high-quality writing⁵.

• Fostering a community of writers: Collaborative checklist creation and small-group instruction and discussion during these revision sessions promote a feeling of being part of a supportive writing community. Teachers finally have the time to get into deep and rich discussion with children about their writing – often about subjects that go far beyond what’s on the revision checklist itself.

Conducting an effective revision checklist sessions

Here’s how to introduce and run successful revision checklist session in your classroom:

1. Collaborative checklist creation: The most effective revision checklists are those constructed in response to the product goals you identified jointly with your class when you read mentor texts at the beginning of your writing project¹. Nothing on the checklist should be a surprise to the children at this point. All the items will have been modelled and taught to the children during the drafting stage of your class project.

2. Teacher modelling: You can begin by showing your class how you used the revision checklist with your own writing. Explain your personal process, the decisions you made, and invite questions from the children. This makes the process tangible and relatable.

3. Right-hand side for revision: Encourage children to draft on the left-hand side of a double page in their notebooks. This leaves the right-hand side blank for their revisions and “trying things out”. If they like a revision, they can use a star to indicate where it should be incorporated into their final manuscript. This dedicated space allows children to experiment with craft moves they haven’t yet used in their main draft. It’s a low-stakes environment for creativity and risk-taking.

4. Small group sessions: It is highly recommended to conduct revision checklist sessions with your class in small groups over a number of days. This allows for focused, individualised instruction and feedback. While you work with a small group, the rest of the class can be engaged in their personal writing projects⁶, ensuring continuous productive writing time.

5. Recognising the behaviour of greater-depth writers: It’s crucial to understand that children are not obliged to include everything on the checklist! If a child experiments with a craft move on their ‘trying things out page’ but makes an authorial decision not to include it in their final piece, this is a sign of a greater-depth writer. This approach avoids ‘overwriting’ and encourages genuine authorial voice and independence.

6. Assessment: Writing produced on revision pages can (and should) still be formally assessed. This provides valuable evidence of a child’s critical thinking and engagement with the writing process⁷.

7. EYFS and KS1 adaptations: For younger children, revision can often occur spontaneously through your daily verbal feedback, using children’s illustrations to elicit more information about their text⁸. Providing extra blank pages allows them to make significant changes to their books if needed.

What to avoid

To ensure your revision checklist sessions are truly effective, steer clear of these common pitfalls with success criteria:

• Narrow focus: Do not limit revision checklists solely to grammar craft moves.
• Completely teacher-imposed: Avoid creating lists without any input from the children.
• Lack of context: Ensure the checklist items are linked to the lessons you taught during the drafting stage of a class project.
• Vague goals: ‘Language devices’ or ‘good grammar’ are too vague. Break these down into specific, named craft moves that children can understand and apply.
• Separate revision from proof-reading: Remember that revision and proof-reading are two distinct cognitive processes⁹. Give them their own dedicated instructional time and checklists.

By embracing the collaborative, reflective, and empowering nature of revision checklist sessions, teachers can cultivate classrooms where young writers not only master curriculum objectives but also develop confidence, agency, and a genuine love for refining their craft.

References

1. Reading in the writing classroom: A guide to finding, writing and using mentor texts with your class [LINK]
2. The enduring principles of effective writing teaching [LINK]
3. Self-efficacy [LINK]
4. Self-regulation [LINK]
5. Motivating writing teaching [LINK]
6. A guide to personal writing projects & writing clubs for 3-11 year olds [LINK]
7. Writing development scales and assessment toolkit [LINK]
8. How to teach narrative writing in EYFS, KS1 [LINK and LINK]; How to teach nonfiction in the EYFS, KS1 [LINK and LINK]

No more: “My class can’t edit” A whole-school approach to developing proof-readers [LINK]

For decades, we have rightly celebrated writing as a profound intellectual pursuit. We teach our students to think critically, organise their ideas logically, and craft sophisticated arguments. Indeed, writing is often seen as the quintessential representation of thought. However, this strong emphasis on cognition, while valuable, has inadvertently created a ‘blind spot’ in how we understand and teach writing: the role of emotion.

As teachers, we readily acknowledge that emotions motivate our students. Yet, the prevailing belief often holds that feelings have little to do with the actual process of making writing. Drawing on insights from Alice G. Brand’s The Why of Cognition: Emotion and the Writing Process¹, this article argues that a truly complete psychology of writing must embrace affective (emotional) as well as cognitive phenomena.

The limitations of taking a purely cognitive view

Our respect for writing as an intellectual enterprise is understandable. We often assess children’s writing by looking for features like: organisation, elaboration, exemplification, and critical thinking. However, the dominant cognitive models of writing², while promising to reunite writing and thinking, fall short in several crucial areas:

🤷 Missing the most important ‘Why’: While cognitive psychologists tell us that our writing choices aren’t random, they struggle to explain why we choose what we choose to write about. This fundamental question often involves our interests, values, funds-of-knowledge and identity which are deeply intertwined with emotion³.

🤷 Neglecting motivation: Teaching recommendations often only give lip-service to motivation, often subordinating it to intellect. It’s frequently tucked into corners or delicately skirted around. Yet, major research highlights the role of emotions like apathy, anxiety, frustration, engagement, persistence and commitment play in learning to write⁴.

😐 The myth of emotional neutrality in non-fiction writing: Some erroneously link ‘emotional neutrality’ as being a sign of quality non-fiction writing. They suggest that being aloof from your emotions, experiences and values is the hallmark of great non-fiction writing. We disagree⁵. Some of the best non-fiction involves passionate and emotional contributions from the writer.

🌑 Methodological blind spots: Cognitive models often rely on ‘think-aloud protocols’ to understand students’ writing processes. Think-aloud protocols are a research method where students verbalise their thoughts in real time while performing a writing task, so researchers can infer their underlying cognitive processes. Yet, these protocols are limited to what people can articulate and what they are asked to articulate. They tend to overlook the emotional thoughts that run through our heads. A significant amount of material – grunts, groans, squeals of delight, flashes of mental pictures, random connections, and side comments loaded with feeling are often left out.

🤖♥️ Lack of emotional language and mechanical metaphors: Cognitive process models provide no language for emotion, effectively excluding it from their research and pedagogy². Instead, it’s common for cognitive psychologists to use jargon that sounds mechanical, promoting almost a robotic view of writing. Calling students monitors or operators rather than individuals or persons creates the idea that children are circuits, transistors, or else are acting like computers. Indeed, many cognitive process models are called computational models for this reason. This perspective fails to capture the rich psychological dynamics of humans; computers, unlike humans, do not grow, think, experience, learn, understand, or feel.

🗺️📍 Assumed motivation and objectivity: Cognitive models of writing can lead teachers to apply the model too directly, expecting students to write in the ways the model prescribes. This assumes a kind of flat, uncomplicated objectivity (and motivation) that may not actually exist for students. As teachers, we know that some of the best writing children produce comes from those who resist or defy us, while some of the weakest writing can come from those who mindlessly obey. The implication that one writing process is superior simply because it aligns with a single cognitive model is far from the truth².

The power of emotion in writing

Cognitive models for writing are not ‘wrong’; they are merely incomplete. Emotions and children’s affective needs are not side effects but fundamental elements in learning to write. The field of writing instruction has shifted from focusing on what students produce (the product) to how they write (the process). Now it is time to fully embrace the why of writing: children’s affective needs and motivation⁶.

Here’s how acknowledging the role of emotion can transform our teaching:

🥳😀🥱😭😤😡 Understanding emotional cues: Help students attend not only to the intellectual but also the emotional cues of writing. What feelings arise in the space between having an idea and beginning a draft? How do students’ affective needs shift depending on purpose, genre, audience, topic, or time constraints?

♥️🧠 Attending to children’s affective needs: For students who struggle with writing, understanding and supporting children’s affective needs at different parts of the writing process can significantly improve their writing performance⁶. Studying how professional writers, recreational writers, and their own teachers engage emotionally with writing can also provide pupils with valuable insights⁷.

Ultimately, while it is in cognition that writing ideas make sense, it is in emotion that this writing finds value. By integrating the whys of writing into our teaching, we can offer a more effective and affective approach to teaching writing.

References

1. The Why of Cognition: Emotion and the Writing Process by Alice G. Brand [LINK]
2. The Science Of Teaching Primary Writing [LINK]
3. Writing Realities [LINK]
4. Motivating Writing Teaching [LINK]
5. How To Teach Non-Fiction Writing In The EYFS [LINK], How To Teach Non-Fiction Writing In KS1 [LINK] and Real World Writers [LINK]
6. The affective domains of writing for pleasure [LINK]
7. Be a writer-teacher [LINK]

Every teacher knows the challenge: ask your class what makes ‘good writing’ and they’ll give you answers like neat handwriting, using ‘wow’ words, or it has full-stops. Ask a staffroom full of colleagues and you’ll perhaps hear a broader definition: clarity, organisation, originality, voice, emotional connection, interest, adherence to genre-specific conventions, and audience awareness.

The truth is, there isn’t one universal definition of good writing. What counts as ‘good’ depends on who you ask — and what they value most about writing. 

I want you to think about your own reading: when you sit down with a book at home, what is it about the author’s writing that you value most? More than anything else…

Educational theorists (and writers themselves) have long debated this, and their perspectives can help us as teachers reflect on what we value in our own classrooms.

Here are five influential ways of thinking about ‘good writing.’

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E.D. Hirsch – The formalist view

For E.D. Hirsch, good writing is about correctness and adherence to the conventions of Standard English¹. Spelling, punctuation, grammar, and vocabulary matter most. Hirsch also links good writing to cultural literacy — the shared knowledge and forms that enable effective communication across society.

👉 Good writing, here, means: error-free, standardised, and conforming to agreed conventions.

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Peter Elbow – The expressionist view

Peter Elbow sees writing primarily as a tool for self-expression and discovery. The process of freewriting, experimenting and finding a personal voice matters as much as the quality of the final outcome². For Elbow, good writing is writing that feels authentic, fluent, and true to the writer’s knowledge, feelings and experiences.

👉 Good writing, here, means: authentic voice, individual style and fluency, and a sense of personal satisfaction.

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J.R. Martin & David Rose – The genre theorists

Martin & Rose emphasise that writing is always social. A persuasive essay, a science report, and a personal narrative each have different structures and purposes — and students need to be explicitly taught the typical conventions for these ‘genres.’ In their view, good writing is writing that does its job in context: a good discussion essay looks different from a good story because each piece serves a different function³.

👉 Good writing, here, means: matching structure and language to the text type and purpose.

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Aristotle – The mimetic tradition

The roots of the mimetic tradition go back to Aristotle, who described art and literature as mimesis — complete accuracy to reality. From this perspective, writing is good when it convincingly represents the world: vivid description, believable characters, accurate accounts. Whether in fiction or non-fiction, good writing reflects truth in human experience⁴.

👉 Good writing, here, means: representing the world clearly, vividly, and sincerely.

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Martin Nystrand – The audience-focused view

Martin Nystrand highlights writing as a conversation between writer and reader. A text isn’t ‘good’ on its own — it becomes good if it connects with its audience. That means anticipating readers’ expectations, engaging their interest, and communicating effectively.

👉 Good writing, here, means: audience-centred communication — readable and responsive to the readers’ needs.

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Why this matters for teaching

Each perspective suggests a different classroom focus:

• Formalist: teach ‘rules’, correctness, and shared conventions.
  
• Expressionist: encourage the development of voice, flair and personal satisfaction.
  
• Genre theory: explicitly teach text types and purposes.
  
• Mimetic: develop vivid, accurate, realistic writing.
  
• Audience-focused: build audience awareness and adaptability.

No single view has all the answers. The kind of writing we value depends on our goals and the context. A history essay, a science report, and a private poem each demand different things — but all can be ‘good writing’ in their own terms.

For teachers, the challenge and opportunity is to help students navigate these varied expectations — focusing on transcriptional conventions, textual features, voice, accuracy, purpose and audience. Ultimately, good writing isn’t one fixed standard: it’s about making choices that fit the purpose, context, and reader.

References

1. The Philosophy of Composition by E. D. Hirsch Jr [LINK] for a critique see Telling Writing by Ken Macrorie [LINK] 
2. Writing Without Teachers by Peter Elbow [LINK] for a critique see Writing With Teachers by David Bartholomae [LINK]
3. Genre Relations by J.R Martin & David Rose [LINK] for a critique see Policing the Text: Structuralism’s Stranglehold on Australian Language and Literacy Pedagogy by Megan Watkins [LINK]
4. Richard Fulkerson’s Four Philosophies of Composition [LINK]
5. The Structure of Written Communication: Studies in Reciprocity between Writers and Readers by Martin Nystrand [LINK] for a critique see Text & Talk by David R. Olson [LINK]

As writing teachers, we spend much of our time honing students’ cognitive skills. We see writing as a deeply intellectual act, a direct reflection of a student’s thoughts. However, a study by Brand & Powell¹, urges us to expand our view beyond pure cognition and consider the profound and often overlooked role of emotion in writing. After all, writing is about thinking and feeling.

For too long, research into writing has either sidestepped emotions or focused solely on their disruptive potential (like writer’s block or anxiety). This study, however, investigated the full spectrum of emotions – positive and negative – experienced by novice adult writers during the writing process. The findings offer vital insights that can reshape how we understand and support our students.

The study at a glance

• Who: The study involved 87 novice writers, primarily undergraduate English and psychology students.
• What: Researchers used the Brand Emotions Scale For Writers² to measure students’ emotional states. Emotions were categorised into three clusters: 

• Positive = adventurous, happy, inspired, satisfied, relieved
• Negative passive = ashamed, bored, confused, depressed, shy
• Negative active = afraid, angry, anxious, frustrated

• How: Students completed the scale immediately before and after a required writing assignment (class essays) and some self-sponsored writing (initiated on their own).
• Goal: To describe changes in emotions during writing and identify factors influencing students’ emotional intensity and change, such as writing skill and whether the writing was required or self-initiated.

Key findings and what they might mean for the writing classroom

The study revealed several crucial points about how emotions shift and interact with the writing process:

⬆️😃 Writing generally improves positive emotions: A significant finding was that positive emotions increased notably during writing sessions. Specifically, feelings like inspiration, satisfaction, and relief showed the most significant increases. Concurrently, negative passive feelings (like boredom and confusion) significantly decreased during writing.

This suggests that the act of writing can be an emotionally rewarding experience, leading to feelings of personal accomplishment. We can lean into this, highlighting the sense of satisfaction students can feel upon the completion of a class writing project.

😀😠 Skill and self-perception play distinct roles: Students deemed ‘unskilled’ by their teachers initially felt much less positive before writing than their skilled counterparts. However, after writing, their positive feelings intensified to match the level of skilled writers, resulting in a greater overall positive emotional change for the unskilled group. Writers who perceived themselves as less skilled consistently reported significantly higher negative passive emotions (e.g., more boredom and confusion) than those who rated themselves as skilled. 

The fact that less skilled writers experience a greater increase in positive emotions during writing is powerful. This offers an opportunity to acknowledge their effort and growth, reinforcing that the process of making writing can be emotionally beneficial and rewarding.

Therefore, a focus on self-efficacy, or students’ belief in their own ability, is crucial. If a student thinks they were simply born a ‘bad writer’ and that there is nothing they can do, they are more likely to suffer emotionally. However, strategies that build confidence and address students’ self-perception can directly improve their emotional experience and engagement³.

😡😰❤️ The nuance of negative active emotions: The study found that ‘negative active emotions’ (such as anger, anxiety, and frustration) tended to stay relatively constant or only decreased slightly during writing. These emotions resisted change, regardless of writing skill or whether the writing was self-initiated or required.

Perhaps surprisingly, students reported higher negative active emotions when engaged in self-sponsored writing compared to required school writing. This means anxiety isn’t always about incompetence. We shouldn’t automatically equate anxiety or frustration with a lack of skill. Skilled writers might experience these emotions due to having high expectations for themselves.

The finding that self-selected topics can lead to more anger, anxiety, or frustration feels counter-intuitive but is important. It might indicate that students feel more freedom to express strong emotions when writing for themselves, or that the responsibility of undertaking their own writing (that they personally value) creates a different kind of pressure – because they care more about it! They are passionate about doing well. This means offering choice isn’t a magic bullet for emotional ease but it does shift the emotional landscape. It means students might care more about their writing doing well. 

Implications for teaching

This research highlights that emotions are not merely peripheral to writing; they are central to the experience and often to the writing product itself.

Acknowledge the emotional journey. Talk to students about how they feel when they write. You should also talk about how you feel when you write⁴. Help them recognise that shifts in emotions are a normal part of the process – the satisfaction in finishing, the thrill of a new idea, the frustration of a writer’s block.

Understanding the rich tapestry of emotions involved in writing moves us beyond a purely cognitive model and allows for a more holistic approach to teaching writing. By supporting not just the minds, but also the hearts of our young writers, we can help them navigate the complex, challenging, and ultimately pleasurable journey of putting thoughts and feelings onto paper.

References:

1. Emotions and the Writing Process: A Description of Apprentice Writers by Alice G. Brand and Jack L. Powell [LINK]
2. The Development of an Emotions Scale for Writers by Jack L. Powell and Alice G. Brand [LINK]
3. Self-efficacy [LINK]
4. Be a writer-teacher [LINK]

For too long, writing education has faced a significant challenge: many children and young people not only underachieve in writing but also develop a strong dislike for it. Surveys from the National Literacy Trust have continually highlighted a decline in children’s enjoyment, volition, and motivation to write both in and out of school, with approximately three quarters expressing indifference or an active dislike for writing¹. This disengagement is closely linked to underachievement, with children who do not enjoy writing eight times more likely to perform below the expected level². This pervasive issue necessitates a re-evaluation of current teaching practices and a shift towards pedagogies that develop both proficiency and pleasure in writing.

Why Johnny can’t write: A lack of competency

Underachievement in writing is not solely a matter of motivation; it also stems from a lack of effective instructional practices that equip children with the necessary skills and processes to be capable in the broadest sense. It’s our belief that the current National Curriculum exacerbates this problem. It is simply not designed to nurture children so that they feel:

1. Personally capable
2. Socially connected and recognised 
3. Academically successful  

It does not provide a clear framework for developing the full range of competencies young writers need. Below are just some of the reasons we believe Johnny can’t write. 

1. A lack of explicit writing instruction

In the name of efficiency, many schemes amalgamate writing into reading lessons, under the mistaken belief that asking children to produce written responses to texts will naturally improve their writing. Writing about your reading is different to explicitly teaching it. This approach ignores a key truth: while reading instruction supports writing, and writing instruction supports reading, one cannot replace the other³. Research is clear — children need dedicated, explicit lessons that break down the skills, strategies, and processes involved in crafting texts⁴. 

2. Rushing for quantity over quality

Many commercial schemes treat writing as a short, rigid, and linear sequence – prewriting, drafting, editing — all completed in quick succession. In this race to produce a high volume of work, guidance often skips or skims through essential stages such as idea generation, revision, and careful proofreading. The sorts of things that take children’s writing from adequate to great. Instead, children and teachers are pushed to churn out writing rapidly, rather than given the time to explore, refine, and develop their ideas. 

This hurried approach forces inexperienced writers to juggle both composition (shaping thoughts, structuring ideas) and transcription (neat handwriting, perfect spelling, accurate punctuation) simultaneously. Such multitasking overloads their working memory, reducing the quality of both their thinking and their expression. Genius takes time. Yet the current emphasis on speed robs children of the chance to produce their very best writing.

3. SRSD instruction remains largely unknown to teachers

Self-Regulated Strategy Development (SRSD) is by far the most thoroughly researched and consistently effective approach to teaching writing⁵. It explicitly teaches students evidence-based strategies for generating ideas, planning, drafting, revising, and proof-reading, while also developing their ability to monitor and manage their own writing process. SRSD blends cognitive strategy instruction with self-regulation techniques, helping children not just to know what good writing involves, but how to do it for themselves. 

Studies show that SRSD benefits struggling and proficient writers alike, improving both the quality and quantity of their writing. Despite its strong evidence base and adaptability across ages, genres, and abilities, SRSD remains virtually absent from most UK classrooms. Few teachers encounter it in their initial training, and fewer still receive professional development in how to implement it. As a result, one of the most effective tools for improving writing outcomes – and for giving children the confidence to see themselves as independent writers – remains unused in the very places where it is needed most.

4. Writing on topics they barely know or care about

The quickest, cheapest and easiest way to improve children’s writing proficiency is to support them in choosing their own writing topics. A major barrier to children’s writing success is being forced to write about topics they know little about (and often care even less for). When writing tasks draw on content outside their long-term memory, children are forced to work with ideas without a secure knowledge base to support them. This dramatically increases cognitive load: they must translate unfamiliar content while also managing the demanding processes of composition and transcription. The result is writing that feels both harder and less meaningful than it needs to be. Supporting children to choose their own writing topics provides a ready-made foundation of content knowledge and motivation, making the process of writing not only more successful but also far more rewarding.

5. Decontextualised grammar teaching 

Formal grammar lessons taught in isolation, without direct connection to real writing, result in negative writing performance because there is no need for children to transfer what they learn to their actual compositions⁶.

 6. Not studying mentor texts

Children are rarely given the chance to read and discuss the kind of texts they will later be asked to create. Too often, pupils are expected to produce a particular form of writing, such as a one-page short story, a persuasive letter, or an information text, without first seeing authentic examples of how real writers approach those very genres. This leaves them trying to imitate a form they have never meaningfully examined.

To become confident and independent writers, children need to read as writers⁷. This means engaging closely with mentor texts. These are texts which realistically match the type of writing they are being asked to craft for themselves. By analysing, discussing, and studying these exemplars, children begin to see how writers make choices about voice, organisation, and style. It shows children what’s possible and probable in concrete terms. Without this step, writing tasks become guesswork rather than craft work.

7. The DfE’s low expectations during teacher training

Many teachers enter the profession without the deep, practical knowledge of writing needed to teach it well⁸. This is partly because, during their own schooling, they missed out on the kind of writerly apprenticeship they deserved. Nationally, the problem is compounded by the absence of rhetoric or composition degrees, and by the fact that few teachers hold creative writing or journalism qualifications. Most are far more likely to have studied English literature. Yet being skilled in literary analysis is not the same as being a writer, nor does it prepare someone to teach the complex, iterative processes of writing. 

The issue is further entrenched by the low expectations in the DfE’s Core Content Framework for Initial Teacher Education, which contains just one bullet point on the teaching of writing, and by Ofsted’s Initial Teacher Education Inspection Framework, which fails to mention writing at all (apart from checking secondary teachers’ handwriting). As a result, minimal time is devoted to effective writing pedagogy, leaving new teachers without the subject knowledge and pedagogical knowledge they need. This lack of preparation perpetuates ineffective classroom practices and deprives students of the opportunity to learn to write with skill and independence.

Why Johnny won’t write: A crisis in motivation

A primary reason for Johnny’s reluctance to write stems from teaching approaches that neglect the affective aspects of writing – the feelings, emotions and attitudes involved in learning to write. Children and young people have reported feeling physically sick and in a state of mental agony when they are in the writing classroom⁹. When so many children associate writing with feelings of incompetence, dread, fear and anxiety, even seemingly capable writers fail to find the motivation to engage, persist and take the risks necessary to produce their very best writing. 

A lack of confidence

A lack of confidence in writing is deeply tied to low self-efficacy, which is defined as self-belief, self-esteem, self-worth, and self-affirmation. When children have low self-confidence as writers, they generally dislike writing¹⁰. They may believe they cannot improve and therefore do not seek writing advice, instead writing only the minimum required. This can lead to low aspirations, a sense of learned helplessness, and little commitment to class writing projects. Children with low self-efficacy may express negative views of themselves and can even become depressed. 

Unfortunately, too many children, too often, are failing to meet the basic met standard for writing. This lack of competency and success invariably hits their confidence hard. Therefore, one of the best ways to help Johnny want to write is to ensure he regularly feels a sense of success. How is this done? By ensuring he is in regular receipt of the best evidence-informed writing practices⁴.

A lack of independence

A lack of independence in writing is closely linked to low self-regulation, which involves knowing what to do and how to do it for oneself¹¹. Too often, children are assigned a lot of writing without ever being shown what to do and how to do it by a passionate writer-teacher. Children with low levels of self-regulation often lack the strategies and techniques needed to sustain a piece of writing successfully. They may resort to avoidance tactics, such as procrastination or hiding their work, and spend minimal time engaged in the writing process. Their focus tends to be primarily on handwriting, spelling, and punctuation, while they struggle with generating ideas, planning, attending to class writing goals, revising their compositions, and proof-reading final drafts.

A lack of autonomy

Agency in writing means having choice, support, autonomy, and ownership over your ideas, your processes, and even aspects of what you are taught. Sadly, children are rarely shown explicitly how to generate their own writing ideas nor are they invited to make contributions to the class’ criteria for success¹². Instead, this role is often taken over by scheme writers, without good reason and with largely negative consequences. 

When children have no say over their writing topics, they are assigned tasks on subjects they neither know nor care about. Disengagement and disenfranchisement soon follow. Donald Graves famously warned that assigning topics creates a ‘welfare system,’ where children are only ever ‘renting a writing idea’ rather than ‘owning it for themselves,’ resulting in a lack of care or commitment to its quality. In these scenarios, children quickly see through the illusion: they are not crafting their own text at all, but merely there to transcribe the scheme writer’s ideas. The scheme writer enjoys the creative work; the child is left with the clerical labour. It’s hardly surprising, then, when they ask: ‘Why should I care if this writing does well?’

A lack of purpose

Authentic writing is an outcome where a child judges there to be a strong connection between a class writing project and their own life, involving real-world relevance and value outside of school. Unfortunately, writing in school is often arbitrarily tied to tasks or texts chosen by a purchased scheme. Many involve inauthentic writing tasks that serve no purpose beyond teacher evaluation. Such tasks require minimal thought, minimal feeling, are often boring, and lack personal meaning, causing children to feel disengaged¹³. They rightly ask: What’s the point? Why am I doing this? 

A lack of audiences

One of the most significant reasons children struggle to care about writing is the absence of a genuine audience. Too often, their manuscripts gather dust in their exercise books and exist only so they can be marked by their teacher. In such cases, children quickly learn that their compositions are little more than ‘fake artefacts,’ produced solely for the purposes of academic evaluation¹⁴.

What’s missing is the opportunity for children to gain real-world recognition and form meaningful social connections with a variety of readers through their writing. At its heart, writing is a social act, a way of making and sharing meaning with others. When young writers know their words will be published, shared, performed, or will be useful to others, they see their writing as consequential. This motivates them to care about clarity, craft, and quality not only because the teacher demands it, but because they believe their audience deserves it too. Without these authentic outlets, children are denied one of writing’s greatest rewards: the chance to entertain, connect, teach, influence, and matter.

A lack of healthy motivation

A core reason for writing underperformance is not simply a lack of skill, but a lack of healthy motivation¹⁵. Too often, children are writing not out of personal curiosity or pride, but out of fear of punishment or simply to keep their teacher happy. This dynamic undermines both intrinsic and extrinsic motivation. Instead of writing because they have something meaningful to say (intrinsic) or because their work will gain authentic recognition (healthy extrinsic), children write to avoid sanctions, tick boxes, or, at best, receive some fleeting praise.

When your teachers’ academic evaluation becomes your dominant concern, anxiety rises and so the risk-taking that’s required for the very best writing plummets¹⁵. Every writing event becomes a high-stakes act of compliance, where the focus is on producing ‘safe’ but accurate work rather than having the time to experiment with ideas, voice, and structure. While extrinsic motivators absolutely have their place, relying too heavily on pressure, rewards, or teacher approval leads children to associate writing with stress and obligation rather than self-expression and a personal sense of achievement. Over time, this performance-driven stance erodes children’s ability to see themselves as writers at all. Instead, they are at school to perform something that looks like writing.

A lack of personal passion projects

Volition is defined as the internal need, desire, urge, or compulsion to write. Writer-teacher Donald Graves famously told us that: ‘children want to write. They want to write the first day they attend school’. However, our teaching practices can significantly weaken this innate drive. Overuse of scheme-assigned topics, setting up inauthentic writing activities, and an almost exclusive focus on transcriptional errors in a high-stakes, performance-oriented classroom culture can diminish children’s volition to write¹⁶. While children are capable of generating their own ideas from an early age, this opportunity is often removed, with scheme-writers assuming responsibility for topic choice. 

Personal writing projects, where children have the time, support and freedom to choose their own topic, genre, purpose, and audience, are crucial for developing their intrinsic motivation¹⁷. Unfortunately, personal writing is often relegated to short, low-status periods like ‘golden time’ or ‘Free Writing Friday,’ which sends a dangerous message about its value. The absence of genuine, self-chosen writing time limits children’s opportunities to explore, experiment, and even fail in a safe environment, preventing them from seeing writing as a genuine recreational activity they can do outside of school. We must remember that, for some children, school may be the only safe space to write for themselves, making the provision of such opportunities incredibly important.

A lack of satisfaction

When children’s writing is judged primarily on transcriptional accuracy or adherence to grammatical conventions, rather than on the quality of its content, style, originality, or its impact on readers, the result is often impeccable nonsense. An emphasis on technical correctness while neglecting meaningful communication leads children to produce texts that are transcriptionally sound but compositionally weak, offering them little satisfaction. When their efforts culminate in work that serves no real purpose and reaches no genuine audience beyond the moths in their exercise book, they come to feel that their writing is neither seen nor valued. The result is a loss of pride and satisfaction in their writing. Children deserve to feel:

1. A personal sense of progress and pride
2. Recognised by their readership and have the opportunity to make social connections with their audiences
3. A sense of academic achievement

A feeling of alienation

For many children, the writing classroom is not a place of belonging but of exclusion. Their own funds of knowledge, funds of identity, and funds of language are often dismissed as unimportant, lacking in so-called ‘cultural capital,’ or even actively rejected as undesirable¹⁸. When the knowledge, experiences, interests, culture and linguistic repertoires children bring with them are sidelined, they quickly receive the message that their writing voice does not count.

This sense of alienation undermines both motivation and confidence. Writing becomes an act of conforming to someone else’s expectations rather than an authentic form of self-expression. Children learn to suppress their lived experiences, their home languages, and their own knowledge(s), producing writing that feels disconnected from who they are. In the long term, this not only diminishes their engagement with writing but also robs the classroom of the richness and diversity that genuine inclusion would bring.

How do we help Johnny?

The Writing for Pleasure pedagogy offers a comprehensive approach to address the issues of both underachievement and disengagement in writing. It is grounded in global research and the practices of exceptional teachers, aiming to develop children and teachers as extraordinary and life-long writers⁴. The approach is neither teacher-centred nor child-centred, but rather one centred around creating successful writers, combining rigorous instruction with principles that develop enjoyment and satisfaction.

References

1. Children and young people’s writing in 2025 [LINK]
2. Writing for Enjoyment and its Link to Wider Writing – Findings from our Annual Literacy Survey 2016 Report [LINK]
3. Write to Read, Read to Write: Reimagining the Writing Classroom [LINK]
4. The enduring principles of effective writing teaching [LINK]
5. Teach mini-lessons [LINK]
6. The Writing For Pleasure Centre’s Grammar Mini-Lessons [LINK]
7. Reading In The Writing Classroom: A Guide To Finding, Writing And Using Mentor Texts With Your Class [LINK]
8. Be a writer-teacher [LINK] and An action plan for world-class writing teaching [LINK]
9. The affective domains of Writing for Pleasure [LINK]
10. Self-efficacy [LINK]
11. Self-regulation [LINK]
12. ‘It’s healthy. It’s good for you’: Children’s perspectives on utilising their autonomy in the writing classroom [LINK]
13. Pursue purposeful and authentic class writing projects [LINK]
14. ‘Playing the Game called Writing’: Children’s Views and Voices [LINK]
15. Motivating writing teaching [LINK]
16. Volition [LINK]
17. A guide to personal writing projects & writing clubs for 3-11 year olds [LINK]
18. Writing Realities [LINK]