Where is Superman? I need him to fly around the world real fast to unwind time. (While he’s at it, he can go back to April 19th and unspill the oil.) It’s just complete insanity that today is June 1, right? I’ve got a lot to do, and the only way to do it is the way I ate my spinach when I was seven: one bite at a time.
The two primary tasks right now are revising Zarr Book 4 and prepping for my class at the Writing and Illustrating for Young Readers workshop in a couple of weeks. (There are still some classes open in pictures books, chapter books, and beginning writing, by the way.) I’ve been reading student papers and am impressed. I’m also a little nervous. When I think back to my experiences taking workshops like this, I remember how scared I was, how eager, how many hopes and expectations I pinned on the leader, how I longed to learn The Secret. Of course we all know there isn’t a Secret, but on some level I think we still wish for one. I feel the pressure of delivering.
For me as a student, what made great workshop experiences came down to a combination of class chemistry, the general quality of the work, and a leader who was in control without appearing to be In Control. Less great experiences involved poor time management by leader, poor people management by leader (e.g. letting students dominate or go on tangents), or mean people.
Have you taken a writing workshop? If so, what are the kinds of things that have either made it a great or not-great experience? Tell me The Secret to leading a fantastic workshop.
15 comments for this post
Worst experiences: mixed class of folks on different levels, teacher ridiculed folks she’d previously worked with. (And the class was not cheap.)
Other bad experiences: in college, teacher belittling student in front of other students.
Good experience: in college, we all sat at a table, teacher sat at the head. We read stuff. I don’t remember what I worked on, just that I adored the teacher, and that she met us each at our own level.
Good experience: in h.s., literary magazine. We had to each say 1 good thing (each in the circle) then 1 question (each in the circle) and then 1 thing we’d improve.
In non-ongoing workshops, the teacher getting us to actually sit and write. Because THAT is the secret. Give us a good prompt, let us write.
Good luck!! Tell them that the Secret is writing. A lot of writing. And turning off the Internet and the TV.
xo,
Suzi W.
Sara Reply:
June 1st, 2010 at 4:42 pm
@suzi w., Great points!
I’ve been lucky to have mostly good workshop experiences, and I’m sure yours will be no exception!
In grad school we had a class of fifteen that met all year, so we had time to build trust and get honest, thoughtful and useful feedback. Our instructor had high expectations but also took each manuscript on its own terms. Several books from that class went on to be published.
One so-so experience was with an instructor who never gave any critical feedback, just praise. Nice for the ego but didn’t help much with craft. Although he did help me get a publisher for my manuscript, so that was good :-)
Sara Reply:
June 1st, 2010 at 8:17 pm
@Alison Gresik, I agree – no critical, helpful feedback is a workshop-killer. But, happy ending for you!
I also agree high expectations + meeting halfway is a great combo.
My best experiences came out from workshops taught in college or grad school (semester-long) by teachers who were friendly but firm. They set rules for discussion. Every week we had a writing exercise which we shared with the class; everybody was required to comment. I believe we had to indicate which parts we enjoyed a lot, and also which parts we thought could be expanded. A real camaraderie developed in those classes. The teachers never “judged” our work; only pushed us to make them better.
The worst experience I had was also in a semester-long workshop, taught by a critically acclaimed novelist, who only believed you wrote well if you did what she told you to do. No room for real growth at all in that environment.
Good luck with your workshop!
Sara Reply:
June 1st, 2010 at 8:18 pm
@Malinda Lo, Malinda, yes, that echoes my experience, too (the positive one – fortunately have never had to deal with your negative example). Thanks for commenting – and congrats on all the great excitement around ASH!
The best workshop I’ve ever attended happened to be the first. Sydney Salter was the mediator. What made her so great was you could tell that she always thought before she spoke–still gave criticism, but it was always thoughtful.
I have no doubt your attendees will benefit greatly from you insight. I always have.
Sara Reply:
June 3rd, 2010 at 8:30 am
@Kathryn, Thinking before you speak = always good advice.
Best way to guide the discussion (I think): keep it focused on “What’s this piece doing; what’s it trying to do; does it achieve those goals; how could it be more effective at what it’s trying to do?” In the best workshops I’ve been in, the teacher used parts of the work as teaching moments to illustrate challenges and principles of good writing.
Don’t let people get off on “This reminds me of the time my grandma…” tangents, and don’t let them personally attack the author or the work–even if the work is actually bad, those sorts of discussions are 100% unhelpful.
That’s my 2 cents!
Sara Reply:
June 3rd, 2010 at 8:29 am
@Hannah, Totally agree – that is all in the plan!
Have fun. I’ve never seen a workshop develop chemistry where the facilitator/leader/guru (in your case) wasn’t enjoyably engaged in the process. If you teach nothing but that criticism and revision need not inexplicably lead to abject misery and certainty of failure as a human being, that can be all many writers need to make what they’ve done better. And being better than before is The Secret to everything, right?
Sara Reply:
June 3rd, 2010 at 8:30 am
@Clint Johnson, Haha – “have fun” was on the list of guidelines I sent to students. Because, yeah, who wants to pay a bunch of money to have a terrible time?
This isn’t so tangible, but I learn best when I’m challenged to bring my real self to the page. It’s when I’m most honest, and when my best writing happens. Offering what that experience is like for you could really help new writers.
Oh, and when I had Paula Huston for fiction writing, she brought in all her rejection letters one day. She said she’s a writer not because she’s the most talented, but because she’s stubborn. That has really stuck with me. It’s true.
Something I learned to offer my students when I was teaching writing: two stars and a wish. I would find two things I liked, and offer them one specific thing to work on. It’s a bit cheesy, but it sticks with you, and it works.
The posture you’re taking here–seeking ideas, not knowing it all, doesn’t guarantee it will be easy, but I can’t see how you won’t be successful! Please let us know how it goes!
Best,
a.
Sara Reply:
June 4th, 2010 at 3:24 pm
@Amy, Great thoughts, Amy, thanks.
One more thing. Brach’s singly wrapped caramels. It worked for Dillard. http://www.themorningnews.org/archives/personal_essays/annie_dillard_and_the_writing_life.php