Previously I had written about choosing an MFA program, and this time I wanted to talk about a central component to any creative writing program—the writing workshop, where members submit stories for critique by the other members of the workshop. And I guess I should state that writing workshops are not the exclusive domain of writing programs–any writer interested in improving the craft of their writing should consider attending a writing workshop.
One interesting thing about the writing workshop that I’ve noticed is that many writers view the writing workshop much like going to the dentist. They know it’s a necessary thing, but often dread going.
After attending a variety of them, I thought I would offer some suggestions and tips for surviving the writing workshop. Though I still may not look forward to going to the dentist, I now very much look forward to attending workshop.
The Writing Workshop: That Curious Beast
With my background in engineering, I was well used to submitting solutions to problems posed by my professors. Sure, creativity was involved, but at the end of the day, my solution either solved the problem or it didn’t, so any feedback from the professor really wasn’t too personal, since you could reasonably quantify how close my solution was to the correct answer. Any feedback or grade usually made objective sense. Also, the problems being solved in engineering were fairly separate from anything too personal–one might be academically interested in calculating the probability of drawing three red balls from a bucket of ten red balls and twelve blue balls, but it was hard to develop an emotional investment in those types of problems.
So in engineering I was always a little separated from my work. My true emotions were always well hidden behind barriers of bad Spock impersonations, awkward hesitations when confronted with persons of the opposite sex, and unhealthy obsessions with The X-Files and Firefly.
This all changed however when I started writing fiction and submitting it to be critiqued in workshop. In my first workshop, my fortifications were quickly reduced to rubble and my emotional defenses were stripped bare.
What is it about writing a story, as opposed to crunching a formula, that makes its critique so painful? In engineering, the critique process was: propose a solution, submit solution to professor, get corrected, learn from the mistake, move forward.
I worked in this environment for years using this process.
But this process was different in the world of fiction, as I learned during that first workshop. I had written a story full of characters that I cherished and a clever plot I was proud of, yet my first workshop went something like this: write a story, get critiqued during workshop, defend defend defend, sit sullenly for the rest of the day.
This new paradigm set me back on my heels. During that first workshop I had defended my story against every challenge. I had thwarted every attempt to poke holes in my plot decisions and I had deflected every suggestion that my characterization was lacking. I had pooh-poohed comments that my story lacked verisimilitude and I had rebelled against whispers that I should rewrite the whole thing.
After that first workshop I had emerged victorious–I had logically defended my precious story from all naysayers!
And yet, as I soon realized, with that defensive attitude I had not learned anything at all from my workshop experience.
The Structure and Process of the Workshop
Usually the workshop, whether it is part of an MFA program, a workshop held at a writing convention, or an informal workshop held in someone’s home, is facilitated by a more senior writer or otherwise designated leader (sometimes there might be more than one workshop leader). In general, each leader can run the workshop as they see fit, so the specific structure and format of workshops may vary. Some leaders are more strict in terms of structure, while others may run a more free-flowing discussion.
And of course, each workshop is influenced by the number of people involved and their personalities. Smaller workshops can lead to more time for extended discussions, whereas a larger workshop often allows discussion of just the main points.
Usually the workshop works like this: Say it’s PersonA’s turn to be critiqued. Each student in a round-robin fashion tells PersonA their comments, followed by the instructor. After everyone (except PersonA) has had their say, PersonA is allowed a chance to respond. But until then, PersonA is not to talk while being critiqued.
The substance of the comments are generally things that worked well in the story, things that were unclear, things that didn’t work, and suggestions for improvement.
Note that when it is PersonA’s time to respond, that is their chance to ask for help on a particular problem or seek clarification on someone’s previous comment.
Some instructors will follow this process strictly, others may interrupt and discuss some craft point or other tangent, or may even query the student being critiqued for why they wrote what they wrote.
Some instructors may preface the workshop with a brief craft discussion.
I’ve also been in workshops that ended a little early since there weren’t as many people in the workshop, and so the instructor devoted the rest of the time to editing and publishing tips, for example.
Tips and Suggestions for a Better Workshop Experience
When it’s your turn to be critiqued:
- Relax—workshop participants really are on your side.
- Keep an open mind and a closed mouth.
- Don’t argue or defend.
- Seriously, shut your mouth.
- The critique is about how well your story worked, not about you as a person. Your story may be a flop, but you are still awesome.
- Take notes on all feedback and then, after a few weeks have passed, go through the comments one by one. Some will be useful, some will be off the mark. Some will conflict with other comments. Consider them all and then make a decision about which ones you think are useful and which ones are not. You are the pilot in command–in the end, this is your story you are telling.
- Be careful that you don’t make so many changes to your story, trying to accommodate everyone’s feedback, that your story becomes some bland, uninteresting piece of prose.
- If you think you connected with someone or a few people in particular in workshop, contact them to ask about a followup critique. Maybe they would be willing to offer feedback on a later revision?
- Do not let criticism artificially bring you down, nor let praise artificially raise you up. Consider what criticisms worked, what didn’t, learn from it, make revisions, and improve your writing abilities.
- Be aware that some people will want you to rewrite your story so that it becomes their story. Some people will grandstand, try to turn the critique into a political argument, or try to enforce their standards and moralities onto you. It is not worth arguing with these people.
- After everyone has had their say about your story and it is your turn to speak, thank everyone for their comments and suggestions. Also, this is your golden opportunity to ask clarifying questions or get specific suggestions and feedback—speak up–everyone there is focused on you, so don’t waste your opportunity.
When it is your turn to critique someone else:
- Remember how you felt when being critiqued. If someone acted professionally when they critiqued you, return the favor. If someone was having a bad day and did not give you an objective, professional critique, then do not seek revenge. Instead, demonstrate how their critique should have been conducted—objectively and professionally.
- Remember that, in general, people are more receptive to criticism if you first lead with positive points about their work and then offer constructive criticisms and suggestions. Lead with what worked in the story and what the author did well. Then, move to things the author could have done better or had trouble with.
- Make specific suggestions for improvement—broad generalities are hard to act upon.
- Always remember this is their story, not your own—don’t try to rewrite their story as you would have written it, in your own style and voice. Try to offer comments that would help them realize the story they are trying to write.
Finally, be sure to capture everyone’s name and contact information so that, once you are home from the workshop, if you have a followup question on someone’s comment, you will know how to get in touch with them.
The Secret Benefit to the Writing Workshop
I know you want your work to be praised. Everyone does. But hopefully you also want to be the best writer you can be. This means constantly trying to hone your writing craft. One of the best ways to learn to write better is to have your work critiqued in a writing workshop. But perhaps the most beneficial part of the writing workshop, which most people do not realize, is that a writer learns just as much, if not more, about how to write through the process of critiquing the works of others. When reading someone else’s work, ego is no longer part of the picture, and so a more objective assessment can often be made of their work than your own. Over time, by learning to critique well other people’s stories, you learn to better apply this objective eye to your own work.
Go Forth: Write, Critique, and Be Critiqued!
I’ve found that workshop members take their roles seriously and are honestly trying to offer useful feedback. It’s really just up to the writer being critiqued to listen and take notes.
So, hopefully by now any worries about attending a writing workshop have been dispelled. The writing workshop is a time when the author can get useful feedback on what works and what does not work with their story, and this can be very helpful for a writer who has taken their story as far as they can on their own.
In fact, I’m looking forward to having two of my stories critiqued this summer by Elizabeth Hand, Scott Wolven, Elizabeth Searle, and the other workshop participants at the next Stonecoast residency.
With the writing workshop, I can’t think of a better way to learn, think, and grow as a writer. Hopefully this article will help you make the most of your time there.