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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]

We have been moved to write this article by a deep care for children’s writerly development, frustration with the systemic issues that perpetuate poor writing instruction, and a clear vision of what writing classrooms could and should be: joyful, purposeful, empowering spaces.

We believe writing deserves its own space. We care deeply about giving children the tools and experiences they need to become real, independent writers. We want to reshape the narrative around how reading and writing interact in classrooms, and offer a hopeful, actionable alternative to the dominant model, one grounded in writerly practices and real-world authenticity.

Writing into reading: The writing classroom’s natural pedagogy

A writing classroom, if it is to be authentic, must regularly pursue what’s called rhetorical purpose. This is the idea that writers write because;

1. They have something to say
2. They have a reason for saying it
3. They have someone to say it to

They are moved to write (Young 2024). 

This is at the core of what composition, rhetoric, creative writing and journalism courses all call ‘the rhetorical situation’: there is a writer, there is an audience, there is a purpose, and there is a message.

The writing-into-reading approach therefore begins with a class knowing they have something to say and setting themselves an authentic and purposeful writing goal through which to say it (see LINK for more details). For example: to craft persuasive letters to people in positions of authority, memoirs for loved ones, information texts for their mates, or short stories for the younger children in the school. 

Once that intention has been set, teachers and students look outward to high-quality mentor texts that resemble the kind of writing they are looking to produce for themselves. This is reading as a writer: noticing structure, studying grammatical, rhetorical and literary craft moves, analysing authorial voice, and borrowing writerly techniques (Smith 1983; Young & Ferguson 2024).

Taken from Reading In The Writing Classroom (Young & Ferguson 2024), here are just some of the things you can look for and discuss as you read as writers.

And here are some of the writerly conversations you might have.

“Children read stories, poems and letters differently when they see these texts as things they themselves could produce.” – Frank Smith

This approach mirrors how writers actually work. While we in no way seek to diminish the importance of children developing as readers, we need to be clear that, in the writing  classroom, writing should be the driver for reading. Reading should be in the service of the writers’ goals.

Here is a beautiful representation of what we are talking about. On the display, we can see just some of the high-quality commercial texts children have been reading as part of their fairytale project. In addition, we can see how writer-teachers have shared their own fairytales as mentor texts too. All this rich reading has resulted in the class coming up with their own success criteria for the project: the things they believe they’ll have to do or include to write their own great fairytales too. 

In a writing classroom, the act of reading is responsive, deep, and authentic. Children and teachers study texts together because they know it helps them grow as writers. High-quality mentor texts are chosen because they match the class’ writing project (you can see examples here). This is the real apprenticeship of writing. It gives students agency, craft knowledge, and a deep sense of why being a writer matters.

“To learn how to write for newspapers you must read newspapers. For magazines, browse through magazines. To write poetry, read it.”  – Frank Smith

For teachers like Sam Creighton, who love reading, such an approach is a dream come true as he finally gets to expose his class to loads of his favourite high-quality texts. Here are just some of the texts he plans to share with his class as part of their memoir writing project. 

Reading into writing: Writers inspired to write by their reading

Reading, in its broadest sense, is another way in which writers find themselves moved to write. Literature has inspired writers for centuries. It inspires children too.

As a result of reading, they sometimes find themselves with a strong desire to write, because they become aware that they have: 

1. Something to say
2. A reason for saying it
3. Someone to say it to

At the heart of this joyful integration lies the concept of personal response. When children write about/write inspired by their reading, they give ‘something of themselves back to the text’ (Young & Ferguson 2021). This vital exchange allows them to link what they are reading to their own experiences, feelings, philosophies, cultures and funds-of-knowledge to create something new to say (Young et al. 2021). 

This writing can take many forms: they might write about what they learned or reflect on what their reading made them think about. Alternatively, it may have inspired them to create a whole new text. These personal responses, whether conscious or unconscious, often act as a trigger for a story, a poem, a piece of non-fiction or even some ‘faction’.

The different ways in which writers respond to their reading (figure taken from Young & Ferguson 2020, p.94)

Crucially, inviting children to write about their reading introduces them to the natural and powerful concept of intertextuality (Young et al. 2021). This is the understanding that writers are influenced and inspired by everything they read, watch, play, hear and experience. Children are inherently ready to transform these textual experiences into writing. By explicitly teaching about and encouraging intertextuality, we empower children to draw from their ‘reading history and developing identities’ to create their own unique texts (Young et al. 2021).

We’ve written extensively about how best to make such links:

• Bringing pleasure to reading lessons through writing [LINK]
• Literacy for pleasure: Connect reading and writing [LINK]
• Oh, for literature’s sake! How to build reading–writing connections [LINK]
• The Writing Realities Framework [LINK]

We want to conclude this part of the article with a perfect example of what we’ve been talking about so far. We recently accepted an invitation to write a forward for our friend’s book. Now, we’ve never written a forward before, so our first impulse, as writers, was to read lots of forwards! This was using the writing-into-reading approach. However, we also needed to read the book so we could have something to say about it. This was how, as writers, we were utilising the reading-into-writing approach. 

The problematic book-planning approach

The book-planning approach, by contrast, is essentially a presentational-skills approach to teaching writing (see LINK for more details). This is where developers of book-planning schemes misunderstand (and mishandle) the relationship between reading and writing.

The process begins with a text, often a novel, and is usually selected by a scheme-writer who has never met the children in the class. Students read it (usually over a number of weeks), discuss its themes, and complete a series of short writing tasks dreamt up by the scheme-writer. These tasks often take the form of character diaries, letters in role, and fictitious newspaper articles. Ultimately, these are reading tasks, perhaps valuable in moderation, and within the context of the reading classroom – but certainly not a foundation for developing lifelong writers.

Unfortunately, the book-planning approach positions writing as a mere follow-up activity, a reciting of the scheme-writer’s ideas. Under such an approach, students do not generate original pieces, nor do they learn about genres, audience awareness, or study mentor texts aligned to their genuine writerly goals. Instead, they are ‘boxed’ into producing what’s called ‘writing-related simulations’ tethered to a single text. The result is inauthentic writing, built on tired and borrowed ideas. 

If we go back to the elements of ‘the rhetorical situation’, we can see why the book-planning approach is so problematic:

• The scheme writer or teacher has decided what the class is to say
• The teacher is often the only person they are saying it to
• Children are saying it solely for the purpose of teacher assessment; to demonstrate that they have understood the text in the ways the scheme-writer deems acceptable.

The young writers are left out of the process entirely.

This approach may sometimes produce a superficial level of writing competency, but it certainly doesn’t produce independent writers (see LINK for more details). This is because it stifles children’s voice, limits their ownership, and instead trains them to see writing not as a powerful tool for their own thinking, feeling, expressing, entertaining, teaching, persuading, or creating, but as a response to the scheme-writer’s reading of a text. Children quickly learn that their job is to simply transcribe the scheme-writer’s ideas onto paper, ready for teacher-evaluation.

Young writers deserve a genuine writerly apprenticeship

At its heart, writing instruction should offer students an apprenticeship in real writing practices. This means:

• Starting with an authentic and purposeful publishing goal [LINK]
• Thinking about audience and genre from the beginning [LINK]
• Reading as writers read [LINK]
• Writing in response to their reading, just as writers do [LINK]
• Generating writing ideas that they and their audience will enjoy, learn from, respond to, or appreciate [LINK]
• Making genuine and independent authorial choices [LINK]

This can only happen in a writing classroom where writing leads the way. Through the writing-into-reading and reading-into-writing approaches, students learn to think as writers: to read not just for comprehension, but to search for writerly techniques, structures, inspiration, and effects. They learn to be curious. They discover that writing is about crafting – and about learning from master crafters.

Align purpose with practice

Choosing a writing-into-reading approach is more than just making a pedagogical shift, it is a philosophical commitment to teaching writing as it truly exists in the world. 

It’s not about discarding literature or downplaying reading, quite the opposite! Instead, it’s about putting high-quality texts back into children’s hands. It’s about showing how reading can serve rather than take away the possibility of authentic and purposeful writing. 

As you’ve seen, we actually want students to be reading more high-quality texts. But that reading must be placed in a meaningful relationship with writing.  If your goal is to teach students to be writers – powerful, authentic, and independent writers – then the writing classroom must be driven by writerly practices. And reading as writers read is essential to that work.

Due to the commercial popularity of book-based writing schemes, it can take not a little courage to shift towards a writer-centred approach to teaching writing. Read that sentence again. What a strange educational world we live in that we even have to say that!

Concluding thoughts

We were moved to write this article out of deep concern for the writerly education children and young people are currently receiving, specifically, how inauthentic and limited writing becomes under the dominant ‘book-based’ model and out of a strong desire to advocate for a more authentic, writer-centered pedagogy.

We had something to say: We wanted to challenge the book-planning approach, which prioritises comprehension-driven writing tasks over real, independent writing. We wanted to argue that this method diminishes students’ agency and voice as writers.

We had a reason for saying it: There’s currently a misalignment between how writing is often taught in schools (as a derivative activity tethered to reading schemes) and how writers in the real world actually live and work. We believe this undermines the development of young people as authentic writers and thinkers.

We wrote to:

• Advocate for the writing-into-reading and reading-into-writing approaches.
• Show that writing is a discipline in its own right, not a servant to reading.
• Emphasise the need for authenticity, agency, purpose, and audience in the writing classroom.

We had someone to say it to: Our audience was:

• Teachers who may feel uneasy with book-based schemes but aren’t sure what the alternative looks like.
• Educators who love literature, and might be more persuaded if they see that embracing a writer-centered pedagogy actually enhances rather than diminishes children’s reading.
• Policy-makers and shakers who shape national approaches to writing.

Having read Christopher Such’s book Primary Reading Simplified, and specifically his chapter on conceptualising reading comprehension, we were moved to write an article about how written composition could be conceptualised too.

As teachers, our understanding of composition profoundly shapes our instructional approaches [LINK and LINK for more on this]. Misconceptions about how writing develops can lead to using unproductive and frustrating teaching methods that fail to equip pupils with the necessary skills to write effectively. In many schools, a significant portion of writing time is devoted to assigning writing rather than explicitly teaching it. At the other extreme, it’s about teaching isolated skills – such as how to answer a whole host of test-like questions about fronted adverbials or crowbarring ‘ambitious vocabulary’ into an arbitrary piece of writing. Writing may also be mainly used to check children’s understanding of their learning in the wider curriculum subjects, or of their comprehension of the text they are studying in their reading lessons.

These practices demonstrate a misconception about writing competency; they stem from the belief that strong writers are those who can employ a fixed set of technical features that can be easily identified and ticked off. However, writing is not simply the sum of its mechanical parts; rather, it is an orchestrated process that involves translating thoughts and feelings into language, structuring ideas coherently, and giving your audience what they need (see our Writing Map for more details). 

Due to the nature of writing assessment in England, too many teachers, instead of using their valuable lesson time to develop pupils’ understanding of how written language works, are asking their pupils to regurgitate surface-level writing features that the STA considers to be ‘good writing’. This takes little account of teaching children how ideas can be shaped into meaningful and successful writing. The result is that pupils develop a superficial competency, without ever developing the genuine skills necessary to take a germ of an idea and see it through to successful and meaningful publication or performance.

These practices are the result of a lack of understanding of the nature of written composition.

Why are misconceptions about written composition so common?

Misconceptions about composition arise for several reasons. First, teachers and school leaders often have little time to engage in deep reflection on the nature of writing itself. Faced with the demands of external assessments, they may assume that aligning writing instruction with answering grammar test-like questions is the most logical approach. It’s jaw dropping to think that a child can answer a question about the subjunctive, passive voice or parenthesis without hesitation, but ask them what are the reasons that writers write and they will stare blankly back at you, utterly unable to answer. Second, some educational publishers respond by producing prescriptive writing resources and assessment training which reinforces superficial understandings of composition. Third, while some educational bodies have attempted to clarify what effective writing instruction entails, these messages have not always reached policymakers (and shakers) (see our attempts here). Finally, even among experts, there is no single agreed-upon rubric for what makes a particular piece of writing successful. You simply can’t standardise great writing. Writing is inherently idiosyncratic and context-dependent. This means it is notoriously difficult to make it fit into standardised frameworks. As a result, misconceptions persist, leaving teachers with ineffectual and incomplete approaches to writing instruction.

What is a better way to think about written composition?

There are two possible approaches to conceptualising writing instruction: one that prioritises formulaic skill acquisition, offering a highly-structured but ultimately ‘fake’ or superficial level of competency, and another that embraces the complexity of composition, guiding students toward deeper engagement with making and sharing meaning with others. The first approach may offer a semblance of clarity for assessment purposes, but the second leads to richer and more meaningful writing development.

To conceptualise written composition productively, we must move away from the idea that a writer’s proficiency can be reduced to a single piece of writing which ticks a whole list of grammatical features, and instead recognise that composition is a process that depends on multiple interwoven factors and the production of a body of work that is crafted over time. Quality composition relies on two things:

1. Fluent spelling and handwriting. Children’s writing stands or falls on their ability to transcribe their thoughts to paper (or screen) fluently (see this article for more details). If pupils struggle with encoding, spelling, letter formation and handwriting, they cannot give as much of their attention to important aspects of composition.

2. Our understanding of why writers write. Compositional development is about understanding why writers write before investigating how they do it well. Writers write to share their ideas, what they think, what they know, and what they feel with themselves and others. Students write more effectively when they choose content they are knowledgeable about and are genuinely motivated to share (see our publication Motivating Writing Teaching for more details). They can also effectively compose if they have had regular opportunities to read, discuss and see how other writers have crafted their manuscripts for a similar purpose and audience. They can then use these insights and strategies to inform their own writing (see our publication Reading In The Writing Classroom for more details).

However, there is more to know about composition that can help us, so let’s build on the two points above.

3. Composition exists on a continuum of proficiency. Students do not simply succeed or fail at writing. Rather, they progress through various levels of proficiency, continually expanding their ability to express ideas with precision, originality, flair and coherence (again, see our Writing Map).

4. Writing is inherently subjective. Every writer brings unique experiences, funds-of-knowledge and stylistic preferences to their manuscripts. While certain conventions and craft moves should be explicitly taught and applied (see our Big Book Of Writing Craft Knowledge for more details), students should still be encouraged to develop their own writing ‘voice’ and use taught craft moves in a way that they believe suits their writing best. After all, a writer’s style is a magical and unique blend of structure, detail, and word choice. It is also an expression of their personal identity. 

5. Writing requires a lot of conscious effort, which can be supported by employing particular strategies. Skilled young writers have the willingness and the ability to engage and persist with writing and put in a lot of effort. Teachers should support their students by utilising evidence-informed practices. We will talk about this some more now…

What does this all mean for classroom teaching?

These five points have significant implications for how we teach writing in the classroom. Let’s consider what they mean in practice:

1. Composition relies on fluent spelling and handwriting. Spelling and handwriting should be taught explicitly and children’s writing fluency should be developed as a matter or priority (see our Transcription Checklist and fluency article for more details). However, this explicit teaching should always be in the service of meaningful writing experiences.

2. Composition relies on our understanding of why and how writers write. Writing is fundamentally about sharing your imaginative ideas, thoughts, knowledge, feelings and perspectives with an audience. Pupils write more effectively when they have a sense of purpose and a clear audience in which to share that purpose with. This is why it is crucial to provide them with rich, meaningful writing opportunities that invite them to draw on their own funds-of-knowledge and experiences. At the same time, pupils become better writers when they read and analyse mentor texts. These should be texts which realistically match the type of writing they are about to craft for themselves. Studying the craft moves, strategies and motivations of other writers also helps pupils make deliberate choices in their own writing (see our publication Reading In The Writing Classroom for more details on this).

In addition, we know writers ‘write to learn’. After all, as Joan Didion said: ‘I don’t know what I think until I write it down’. This means children should also be invited to write about their:

• Reading in reading lessons.
• Learning in the wider curriculum. 

3. Composition exists on a continuum of proficiency. Pupils do not simply succeed or fail at composition. Instead, they progress through different stages of proficiency, each with its own challenges and characteristics. As our Writing Map shows, the youngest of writers often begin with ‘writing-telling’ where they list ideas with little organisation or refinement. As they develop, you will see moments where they are ‘writing-transforming.’ You’ll see evidence of them crafting their writing to improve its clarity and impact. Over time, you’ll see children consciously shaping their manuscripts with their audiences’ needs at the forefront of their mind. Accepting and recognising this continuum allows teachers to identify and celebrate moments of growth while also being clear about how they can move their pupils’ writing development forward.

4. Writing is ultimately subjective. While certain aspects of composition such as grammar, punctuation, and text structure should be explicitly taught, writing is also deeply personal. A strong writing curriculum should balance explicit teaching with opportunities for pupils to develop their own writing voice and style. Encouraging students to experiment independently with different writing ideas, genres, structures, and levels of formality can help them build a personal feeling of proficiency while also ensuring they meet academic expectations.

5. Writing requires a lot of conscious effort, which can be supported by particular strategies. Even the most skilled writers find writing cognitively demanding. Effective composition involves juggling multiple considerations: cohesion, grammar, vocabulary, and audience engagement. Teaching writing should therefore include explicit modelling of strategies that help pupils manage this complexity. This includes explicitly teaching idea generation and planning strategies, sentence-level craft moves, revision and proof-reading techniques, and the use of literary and rhetorical devices. Providing pupils with structured opportunities to independently practise these techniques through well-planned class writing projects ensures they develop the habits of skilled and autonomous writers.

In essence, composition is developed via:

• Explicit teaching.
• Meaningful writing experiences.

These elements interact with one another. Children apply what they learn through explicit teaching when engaged in meaningful writing experiences. In turn, because they are participating in purposeful writing, they become more receptive to explicit instruction.

Explicit teaching	Meaningful writing experiences
Handwriting and spelling instruction [LINK for more] Self-regulation strategy development instruction Includes: grammar, sentence-level, literary craft moves, rhetorical devices, generating ideas, planning, drafting, revising, proof-reading, publishing [LINK for more] Verbal feedback and pupil-conferencing [LINK for more] Scaffolding – including aids, modelling and guided practice [LINK for more]	Short ‘fluency’ based writing projects [LINK for more details] Reading as writers and studying mentor texts [LINK for more] Whole-class writing projects [LINK for more] Personal writing projects (both school and home) [LINK for more] Class sharing and Author’s Chair [LINK for more]

For more on this, see our document: The Writing Map & Evidence-Based Writing Teaching [LINK].

By adopting a more nuanced understanding of written composition, teachers can develop richer, more effective writing instruction that supports genuine literacy development. In doing so, they free children from the constraints of producing superficial assessment-driven identical texts and instead cultivate their ability to think, feel, write, and communicate with depth, originality and authenticity.

By Alice Bidder – Hartland International School

How many times have you needed to write a diary from the perspective of an evacuee or a non-chronological report on the Vikings in your life? Most probably, never. However, how often do we need to write a letter to bring about change or engage in writing that explains a process or discusses difficult issues? 

This action research project aims to measure the impact of choice on writing motivation in Year 6. 

Background of the problem

At Hartland, we felt we needed to remodel our writing curriculum to give the children a clear purpose for writing. Too often we were receiving 26 copies of the same narrative that had been “innovated” from a model text. It lacked creativity and children were not motivated to write. Therefore, we began the journey to improve attitudes to writing through Ross Young and Felicity Ferguson’s Writing for Pleasure framework. 

It has long been a challenge to have children write at length in Year 6 and so introducing the element of choice was introduced to combat this. The Writing for Pleasure centre has created a framework for primary writing that puts supporting children’s choices at the heart of the curriculum. New to the role of English lead for the academic year 2024-25, it was a school-wide priority to give both students and teachers alike the opportunity to make changes to their attitudes towards writing.

Literature review

The National Literacy Trust: Children and young people’s writing in 2024, reported on worrying statistics for the state of children’s motivation for writing. In a survey of 76,131 children and young people, fewer than 3 in 10 children (28.7%) reported that they choose to write in their free time. Furthermore, 44.0% of children and young people aged 8 to 18 struggled with deciding what to write, and 1 in 3 (36.8%) admitted that they only wrote when they had to. This further highlights the need to consider curriculum choices when delivering writing lessons to pupils. As teachers, we have a duty to inspire children’s writing ideas and provide support with this process when needed.

In the academic year 2023/24, 72% of children met the standard for writing in teacher assessments (DfE 2025). This is a decline of 6% since before the pandemic in 2020. Additionally, students achieving greater depth remained at 13%. Another decrease, down from 20% before the pandemic. These statistics demonstrate the rapid decline in outcomes for writing in the United Kingdom. Curriculum design over the last decade has been catered towards ‘cross-curricular learning’. Often, history and geography content is taught through English lessons and so writing instruction can be secondary to exploring texts that are didactic to the curriculum topics (Young & Ferguson 2021).

Methodology

The action research approach to measure the impact of choice in writing was necessary as it is important to review practice regularly and make changes to achieve maximum impact. It is also important to reflect and review each action research cycle to understand what methods are not providing impact and so should be revised before the next cycle. 

In this research, this took the form of a new writing project every 6-8 weeks. At each milestone, outcomes for writing were assessed and where students had been successful, their writing choices were analysed to depict why this was. The study aimed to answer three questions: 

1. Does supporting children’s writing choices impact their writing motivation?
2. Does supporting children’s writing choices impact their writing enjoyment?
3. Does supporting children’s writing choices impact their identities as writers?

The research began with a Children As Writers survey. All children completed the survey of 19 questions, each written to measure one of the affective domains of writing (Table 1). This was then reviewed in May 2025 with a final measure of the affective domains (Table 2). Student interviews were conducted in May 2025 to further understand a small percentage of the outcomes.

• Participants: The sample included 22 students. 13 boys and 9 girls from a Year 6 class in an International, British Curriculum school in Dubai.
• Data Collection: 22 students completed a survey in September 2024 and then repeated the same survey in May 2025. 1 student interview was conducted in May 2025.

Data analysis

In September 2024, children, as a collective, reported ‘mild low’ enjoyment, ‘mildly negative’ motivation and ‘mild low’ agency (Table 1). This showed that children did not have a positive outlook on writing, were not motivated to write and felt that they did not have ownership over their writing. As Year 6 children, aged 10-11, attitudes towards writing are often challenging to change as they have spent six years at primary school and have the most experience with the subject. Therefore, the results of the survey were not surprising at this stage.

Table 1: Outcomes of the ‘Children As Writers’ survey in September 2024.

The aim of the survey was to focus on enjoyment, motivation and writer-identity. This is because motivation in particular is linked to increased persistence, attention and effort (Young 2024). These behaviours are also related to how children manage the cognitive load of writing (Young & Ferguson 2023). 

Attainment outcomes in writing for the class suggest that 79% are meeting the expected standard and 71% achieving above the standard. Whilst this is significantly above outcomes reported in the United Kingdom, the assessment framework used was not the same criteria. The Knowledge and Human Development Association (KHDA) is the governing body for Dubai and the assessment framework used reflects the demands of the country. 

However, it is possible to compare the 79% meeting the standard as a reflection of the success of the writing curriculum as this is above the 72% meeting the standard in the United Kingdom. Although the aim of the study was not to measure attainment in writing, it is interesting to note the outcomes do not drop when supporting pupils to choose their own writing ideas.

When the survey was replicated in May 2025, results showed a positive increase in all the affective domains. Significantly, enjoyment and motivation. Whilst the domain of writer-identity has increased from ‘negative’ it remains ‘mildly negative’ from student’s final responses. When questioned about this, children reported ‘real writers are published authors, not children’. Therefore, this will continue as a priority next academic year. 

Teachers should strive to work on children’s opinion of themselves as writers and engage with them as ‘real’ authors to demonstrate that the writing process is the same for them as it is for recreational or professional adult writers.

Table 2: Outcomes of the ‘Children As Writers’ survey in May 2025.

On an individual basis, the survey also reported an overall attitude to writing based on a five level scale: negative, mild negative, mild positive, positive and very positive. In the initial survey, 1 student had a positive attitude towards writing. 10 were mildly positive and 11 were mildly negative. This culminated in a 50% negative outlook and 50% positive. After a year of using the ‘Writing for Pleasure’ framework and giving children choice in their writing lessons, 6 children reported a positive attitude (23% increase), 15 were mildly positive (23% increase) and 1 remained mildly negative (45% decrease).

Table 3: Individual outcomes of the survey with differences shown.

Results

• Research question 1: Does supporting student choice improve children’s motivation to write?

Yes, in the context of the children in the sample.

• Research question 2: Does supporting student choice improve children’s writing enjoyment? 

Yes, in the context of the children in the sample.

• Research question 3: Does supporting student choice improve children’s writer-identities?

Not to a positive level, yet.

Discussion and reflection

When comparing the findings of the study to the literature available, it can be said that supporting children to make their own writing choices improves their motivation, enjoyment and agency as young writers. This is an issue that is being felt in the international school systems as well as in the United Kingdom. A simple change in teacher practice should be to involve children in the idea generation stage of a class writing project. If children are being dictated to about the topic they must write about, we cannot hope for improved motivation for writing both in and outside of the classroom (Young & Ferguson 2021). Teachers should reflect on how weighted their English curriculums are towards other subjects as opposed to explicitly focusing on the teaching of writing. For example, are their writing curriculums simply a supplement for their reading or wider-curriculum subjects (history/geography)? If they want to improve the attitudes of their students and their writing outcomes, they might need to think again. 

On a personal level, my practice has improved as I have reflected on each writing cycle to continually take children’s voices into account when planning a unit. Explicitly modelling and teaching children idea generation strategies as part of the sequence has improved in each iteration. I have also had time to reflect on the successful pieces of writing as well as asked children what I could have done differently. When planning lessons to support children with coming up with their own ideas, I started quite open and free as I thought this would be the best approach. However, when I was met with a sea of blank faces and a chorus of ‘I don’t know’, I knew that idea generation techniques have to be explicitly taught and modelled if we are going to support pupils. We developed lessons from Young and Ferguson’s materials to teach the ‘I am an expert’ and ‘Let’s have an ideas party’ techniques. 

It was important to engage with the advice with the authors of the framework that stated, ‘giving children choice doesn’t mean you can’t give advice or direction’ (Young & Ferguson 2025). This statement is further supported by additional advice for staff: ‘teachers can be direct and tell children to choose something else – as long as they can explain to the child why’. This highlights the important role that the teacher has at this stage in the writing process to ensure that children’s ideas will be fruitful and beneficial to their progress as a writer. We must provide children with the confidence that their ideas matter and other people will be interested in reading their writing.

The introduction of ‘faction’ (a blend of facts and fiction) has also been an important element to our lessons and curriculum. This teaches children that writing lessons are not always about regurgitating facts and curriculum content but about teaching them the skills to become great writers. It does not matter if ‘the facts’ in their faction writing are true. The beauty of faction is that children get to invent their own facts whilst focusing on the objectives of the writing curriculum and developing their authorial voice.

All teachers at Hartland have followed this approach for the academic year. This will continue indefinitely as we feel, across the school, children’s motivation has greatly improved. Next year, teachers in all year groups will carry out the Children As Writers survey with their classes at the beginning and end of the year. In its initial phase, this will give teachers an understanding of their classes’ current attitude and give them clear next steps on which domains need to be addressed.

Conclusion

In conclusion, choice has an impact on motivation and enjoyment of writing. Teachers should reflect on their current writing curriculum and aim to involve children in the process. Their ideas should be at the heart of their writing during writing lessons and teachers should focus on explicitly teaching writing skills rather than delivering content for other subjects. Writing lessons must be carefully planned and student choice should not be interpreted as providing a lack of direction.