It gives me a shiver how often the topic you write about so beautifully harmonizes with some aspect that's come to the fore of my writing life. For years I was a part of Jim Krusoe's fiction workshop at Santa Monica College but when the pandemic hit, he chose to retire and that was that. A small cadre of that group just invited me to participate in break out group of sorts so after three years I'm thrilled to be marking up pages again. Your notes so helped me reorient to the process. No wonder your students love you!
One more note: I recall listening to a lecture by Ocean Vuong where he explained that (at least in his poetry workshop at NYU) the workshop doesn't even begin giving notes until about six weeks into the semester because it's only then that the members have begun to KNOW each other and can critique with that knowledge rather than some set of generic expectations. I found that fascinating.
Thank you again for such a wonderful, thoughtful, honest post.
I get the copying accusation. You’ve written about it in 2 books. That kind of erasure often comes from men, though competitive women will use it also. It’s jealousy, so let it slide.
I’ve submitted to one class in which my writing received criticism, and it was withering.
I will always feel so grateful that I was one of your students at the Y! I was desperate to write fiction and you were so wise and earnest and caring. You made it feel possible back when it felt impossible.Thank you!! ❤️
Wow, once again, so very generous. Lately I've been doing much more reading than writing but I may try to think about Destiny (!) and hit the keyboard again. After gobbling up a few more novels....
This is really thoughtful and makes me think of a few incidents from my MFA years. I also had the confusing experience of being the teacher’s pet in my MFA program, and it served to make me very self conscious, in case I wrote anything that wasn’t perfect. And my teacher respected my writing while also making it very clear that he found me attractive, and when I took up with another student in the program he got very obnoxious and disrespectful. Making jokes about our sex life to all of the other guys in the workshop, and so forth.
I still have really mixed feelings about this man, because he really did champion me. I feel a need to point out even here that he liked my work before he ever set eyes on me. But of course I shouldn’t have to point that out at all. What it mostly made me feel was sort of split in half, one part of me a serious writer and one part of me a sex object. Which is strange, because it was his schism, not mine. But it also felt very habitual, that kind of self-splitting, and like something that I had been doing for a long time as a pretty young woman with ambitions to write.
I made a good friend in that workshop who is still my good friend. On the first day of workshop, both of our stories were up for discussion. We all had to write notes about each other’s stories, and the first note that I wrote about hers was much less generous- and also less thoughtful- than the one that I ended up giving her. She later told me that my comments were the only comments that had been useful to her, and sometimes I wonder if we even would have become friends if I had given her my original note.
I think that criticism is an imaginative act, or it should be, and like most imaginative acts it’s hard. It’s relatively easy to just be critical and snarky, especially when you are young and insecure.
Thanks for this. It made me sigh, and sad, except for the bit about your friendship. Your feelings about your teacher are difficult and complex. It's rough, and a tightrope to walk at the time. I hope it didn't slow you down. I agree completely that good criticism is imaginative. Beautiful way to think about it.
How interesting to get your new post today after talking over dinner with my daughter and a young woman friend who is an actor about workshopping and criticism and how often it can be unhelpful. The conversation brought up an experience I’d long forgotten about when I had gotten into a competitive writing program for personal essays and it was the last night. I had gotten a babysitter so I could join everyone out at a restaurant later. But the workshop ended up going south for me when several people, including the leader, had visceral reactions to the content of my essay - a musing on my toddler daughter’s beauty and how that stirred up worries not joy or pride, thinking how the world’s reacting to it would be hard for a fledging human to navigate. I was such a new writer then, and also well tapped taking care of my three, then super young children. As I described this over dinner, I remembered, that I had managed to stand up for myself against an onslaught of three or so people speaking up about how they, as women, did this or that, then joined in by the teacher, who’d taken a certain approach and had made it in a very male dominated journalism niche in the 80’s and on. Basically the point was that I shouldn’t say what I was saying. I spoke up and said this was what I was writing about. Was there anything they could share that would help me in saying it better?
I love your approach, Alice, and, also, the specific questions another commentator suggests. Do no harm. What specific suggestions might one have to help the writer? Years ago I took an online class taught by a phenomenal writer and teacher, Uma Krishnaswami, and she shared guidelines on critiquing others’ writing. At that point she was on the faculty of the Vermont College MFA program. I distilled her approach in my mind as finding the good ink in someone’s material. Where do you feel energy, life, vividness, interest? Note that. And then try to offer specific suggestions on the material as a whole that might help a writer be even more effective at their goal for the passage.
And Alice what a horrible experience you had with that professor. When an older established artist links praise for a young artist’s talent to their obedience, being a fan of the older artist’s work/world view/person, and developing sexuality, it can do so much terrible lasting damage to the young artist’s confidence. I am so glad that you found your way to writing again.
Loved this! May I now begin carrying a long-lasting grudge against that cruel poetry teacher? Is there a writer among us who has not taken a class with some variation of him (or her)? The bruises can last a long time. Even after decades of writing and publication, it can still be easy to get derailed by a certain kind of hard-hearted response to unfinished work. And yet, we writers need to know. Fresh eyes are required. So yes, best to ask: is there anywhere I lost your attention? Is there anything that didn’t make sense? Is there anywhere you laughed out loud? Did you cry? And then, back at it.
“Over the years I’ve come to invite students to say what they want to hear about, *if anything*. If they only want their work to be witnessed, I may read it aloud so they can hear it in another voice. If they only want encouragement, I may ask the group to read lines they particularly liked and say why they appealed.“
This breaks what I was taught was a/*the* cardinal rule of workshop—that the writer must sit silently and take it. Either times have changed or your approach is revolutionary. Revelationary! How fortunate your students are. 👏👏👏
How perfect it was to find your message this morning after a writing workshop of my novel in progress that was particularly challenging. The suggestions and comments were delivered with respect, the participants were my trusted tribe, yet the volume of suggested revisions dunked me in deep water.
I’m better this morning. I’m ready to revise, at least in my imagination. But that sinking sensation still feels raw. Thank you.
Volume can be a real problem, I know what you mean. There are so many ways to go at manuscript that isn't published yet. I'd winnow those comments way down to maybe three.
Thank you for your sensible advice. I study with the author, Connie May Fowler who has a kindness approach to workshop behavior. And I realized while writing you this morning that it was the quantity of suggestions that overwhelmed me, not the delivery. Also a new member went before me and her submission, beautifully written in a stunning voice received a tsunami of praise. That put my insecurities on high alert.
But this morning I’m better. Your helpful suggestion will give me direction to manage my 4 pages of notes.
It gives me a shiver how often the topic you write about so beautifully harmonizes with some aspect that's come to the fore of my writing life. For years I was a part of Jim Krusoe's fiction workshop at Santa Monica College but when the pandemic hit, he chose to retire and that was that. A small cadre of that group just invited me to participate in break out group of sorts so after three years I'm thrilled to be marking up pages again. Your notes so helped me reorient to the process. No wonder your students love you!
One more note: I recall listening to a lecture by Ocean Vuong where he explained that (at least in his poetry workshop at NYU) the workshop doesn't even begin giving notes until about six weeks into the semester because it's only then that the members have begun to KNOW each other and can critique with that knowledge rather than some set of generic expectations. I found that fascinating.
Thank you again for such a wonderful, thoughtful, honest post.
I get the copying accusation. You’ve written about it in 2 books. That kind of erasure often comes from men, though competitive women will use it also. It’s jealousy, so let it slide.
I’ve submitted to one class in which my writing received criticism, and it was withering.
Ha, I'm being repetitive! I'll conjure up some new material.
Thanks for the comment, sorry about the withering. It's awful.
Alice,
I will always feel so grateful that I was one of your students at the Y! I was desperate to write fiction and you were so wise and earnest and caring. You made it feel possible back when it felt impossible.Thank you!! ❤️
Carol
Carol, you had a destiny! Glad I was part of it.
Wow, once again, so very generous. Lately I've been doing much more reading than writing but I may try to think about Destiny (!) and hit the keyboard again. After gobbling up a few more novels....
This is really thoughtful and makes me think of a few incidents from my MFA years. I also had the confusing experience of being the teacher’s pet in my MFA program, and it served to make me very self conscious, in case I wrote anything that wasn’t perfect. And my teacher respected my writing while also making it very clear that he found me attractive, and when I took up with another student in the program he got very obnoxious and disrespectful. Making jokes about our sex life to all of the other guys in the workshop, and so forth.
I still have really mixed feelings about this man, because he really did champion me. I feel a need to point out even here that he liked my work before he ever set eyes on me. But of course I shouldn’t have to point that out at all. What it mostly made me feel was sort of split in half, one part of me a serious writer and one part of me a sex object. Which is strange, because it was his schism, not mine. But it also felt very habitual, that kind of self-splitting, and like something that I had been doing for a long time as a pretty young woman with ambitions to write.
I made a good friend in that workshop who is still my good friend. On the first day of workshop, both of our stories were up for discussion. We all had to write notes about each other’s stories, and the first note that I wrote about hers was much less generous- and also less thoughtful- than the one that I ended up giving her. She later told me that my comments were the only comments that had been useful to her, and sometimes I wonder if we even would have become friends if I had given her my original note.
I think that criticism is an imaginative act, or it should be, and like most imaginative acts it’s hard. It’s relatively easy to just be critical and snarky, especially when you are young and insecure.
Thanks for this. It made me sigh, and sad, except for the bit about your friendship. Your feelings about your teacher are difficult and complex. It's rough, and a tightrope to walk at the time. I hope it didn't slow you down. I agree completely that good criticism is imaginative. Beautiful way to think about it.
How interesting to get your new post today after talking over dinner with my daughter and a young woman friend who is an actor about workshopping and criticism and how often it can be unhelpful. The conversation brought up an experience I’d long forgotten about when I had gotten into a competitive writing program for personal essays and it was the last night. I had gotten a babysitter so I could join everyone out at a restaurant later. But the workshop ended up going south for me when several people, including the leader, had visceral reactions to the content of my essay - a musing on my toddler daughter’s beauty and how that stirred up worries not joy or pride, thinking how the world’s reacting to it would be hard for a fledging human to navigate. I was such a new writer then, and also well tapped taking care of my three, then super young children. As I described this over dinner, I remembered, that I had managed to stand up for myself against an onslaught of three or so people speaking up about how they, as women, did this or that, then joined in by the teacher, who’d taken a certain approach and had made it in a very male dominated journalism niche in the 80’s and on. Basically the point was that I shouldn’t say what I was saying. I spoke up and said this was what I was writing about. Was there anything they could share that would help me in saying it better?
I love your approach, Alice, and, also, the specific questions another commentator suggests. Do no harm. What specific suggestions might one have to help the writer? Years ago I took an online class taught by a phenomenal writer and teacher, Uma Krishnaswami, and she shared guidelines on critiquing others’ writing. At that point she was on the faculty of the Vermont College MFA program. I distilled her approach in my mind as finding the good ink in someone’s material. Where do you feel energy, life, vividness, interest? Note that. And then try to offer specific suggestions on the material as a whole that might help a writer be even more effective at their goal for the passage.
And Alice what a horrible experience you had with that professor. When an older established artist links praise for a young artist’s talent to their obedience, being a fan of the older artist’s work/world view/person, and developing sexuality, it can do so much terrible lasting damage to the young artist’s confidence. I am so glad that you found your way to writing again.
Thank you Robyn. It was truly horrible and very painful. I didn't know how to understand it for a long time and just felt ashamed.
It really makes me angry that this professor had that much unchecked power over his students. Your response - so universal and human.
Loved this! May I now begin carrying a long-lasting grudge against that cruel poetry teacher? Is there a writer among us who has not taken a class with some variation of him (or her)? The bruises can last a long time. Even after decades of writing and publication, it can still be easy to get derailed by a certain kind of hard-hearted response to unfinished work. And yet, we writers need to know. Fresh eyes are required. So yes, best to ask: is there anywhere I lost your attention? Is there anything that didn’t make sense? Is there anywhere you laughed out loud? Did you cry? And then, back at it.
Did I say I loved this? ❤️
This is a great list for a writer to have to ask readers.
exactly Nancy. repeating the positive is always a good plan. did I say, exactly?!!!
You did! You did!
“Over the years I’ve come to invite students to say what they want to hear about, *if anything*. If they only want their work to be witnessed, I may read it aloud so they can hear it in another voice. If they only want encouragement, I may ask the group to read lines they particularly liked and say why they appealed.“
This breaks what I was taught was a/*the* cardinal rule of workshop—that the writer must sit silently and take it. Either times have changed or your approach is revolutionary. Revelationary! How fortunate your students are. 👏👏👏
Yeah, I don't go for that model.
How perfect it was to find your message this morning after a writing workshop of my novel in progress that was particularly challenging. The suggestions and comments were delivered with respect, the participants were my trusted tribe, yet the volume of suggested revisions dunked me in deep water.
I’m better this morning. I’m ready to revise, at least in my imagination. But that sinking sensation still feels raw. Thank you.
Volume can be a real problem, I know what you mean. There are so many ways to go at manuscript that isn't published yet. I'd winnow those comments way down to maybe three.
Thank you for your sensible advice. I study with the author, Connie May Fowler who has a kindness approach to workshop behavior. And I realized while writing you this morning that it was the quantity of suggestions that overwhelmed me, not the delivery. Also a new member went before me and her submission, beautifully written in a stunning voice received a tsunami of praise. That put my insecurities on high alert.
But this morning I’m better. Your helpful suggestion will give me direction to manage my 4 pages of notes.
Thank you for writing. 😎