Why I let my student write eleven drafts.

When Priya hit her fourth draft, the essay was solid — readable, correct, vivid. But it didn't sound like her.

We talked about why on a 30-minute call: she was writing what she thought a Stanford reader wanted, not what she actually thought about her parents' restaurant. Every revision after that was about subtraction. By draft eleven, she had cut 600 words and added two sentences. The two sentences are the ones I quote when admitted-student parents ask "what makes a Nyx essay different."

The point isn't to write a lot. It's to keep cutting until what's left is unmistakably yours.