Love and Hate

Before September of 2008, I had never heard of a creative writing workshop. The only feedback I received in regards to my creative works was from any random friend or relative who inquired about my writing. Most often they would say how much they liked it, but there was little elaboration as to what exactly they liked. So, with that in mind, I looked forward to the constructive feedback of the workshop.

What I found is that the workshop gave me insight to what various readers may bring to a creative piece, with their various backgrounds, expectations, biases, etc. It helped me to see that a class in creative writing is about bringing one’s writing into a public forum and allowing it to be commented upon from the outside, as the reader may see it. Workshops urge writers to get over themselves and to let down their defenses enough to be able to take in whatever comments will help the writing to improve.

Peer critiques can be valuable as tools to spark new ideas, whether from direct comments or from insightful questions. A recent fiction workshop submission netted me ideas for new scenes and more chances to develop characters.

They can also help the author to see extraneous parts of the work as well as well as new ways of seeing a piece in the sense of overall scope, structure, design, or format. Someone asked if my novel would be chronological or told in present day with flashbacks (I began the story from when the main characters were children.) I replied that I hadn’t thought about telling the story with them as adults with occasional bits of memories brought in to move the story along or to develop character because, in my mind, I had always seen it unfolding in a chronological way…like the stories of Superman or Moses told from infanthood to adulthood, as opposed to Batman who had flashbacks of childhood and the murder of his parents. The stories could be told multiple ways.

Peer critiques can also help us to be honest with ourselves. I remember a story I wrote with a beginning that wasn’t quite finished—it was written to setup the surprise ending, but it didn’t work. I let a former professor have a look at it and she said straight up that the beginning was the weakest link. She said she saw why I wrote it that way, but that it was too confusing as written. I was a bit put off at first, but couldn’t deny I already felt the beginning needed work and that I shouldn’t have any issues with what she said. Her comment helped me to be honest enough with myself to say: Okay, this is about making the story the best it can be, to improve the craft, not about me needing to hear I’m already the best writer ever.

So, in short, the best part about workshops is that, when they are successful, the author is inspired, encouraged to work toward the best piece possible, and has suggestions to reach that goal. Feedback is honest and usable. Not only that, but his or her peers will benefit from learning from the author’s failures and triumphs as well as learning how to give useful critiques.

If it weren’t for a poetry workshop, I may never have found the prose poem. At the time, I wasn’t sure what it was called—I think I referred to it as the block poem or text block poem—but I knew the form had power. Not only the language inside it, but the form rocked ass. I was inspired to learn about its history, its development, the “why the prose poem?” and now it has become my style. We learn from one another in workshops.

On the flipside, workshops can be horrible when students refuse to learn from each other or refuse to pay attention to what the author is trying to do because they can’t identify with the work’s content or form. I’ve been in workshops in which the submitted piece wasn’t given a proper reading due to laziness and students not liking the content. For example, if most of the students in the class write pieces that focus on the mundane, the students who write surreal or more fantastic pieces may not get proper feedback because their peers find the work to be beneath them or not their cup of tea. This presents opportunities for bandwagon jumping (where people agree with whatever negative is being said), vent sessions for detractors, and a waste of time for the author. This may cause a rift in the level of trust students have for each other and cause class moral to decline. The creative risk takers may feel the need to conform to whatever the group has deemed acceptable.

Also, the class can suffer if comments are either heavy-handed or too nice. With harsh comments, the student may feel discouraged with the project and scrap it or decide to quit writing all together. In addition, if the author becomes too defensive due to harsh comments, he or she may stop listening to whatever challenging criticism may come afterward, even if it's apt. If comments are too nice, the author may feel as if they don’t need to work on their craft as much, if at all, which could hinder their level of progress. In addition, some students may seem to be favored while or others may feel bullied.

I can see some of the challenges facing creative writing instructors. Having to maintain the balance between giving honest, usable feedback and encouragement seems tough, indeed, when partnered with various subversive personalities. Setting rules of engagement early and sticking to them is crucial to insure that everyone has an equal chance for their work to be properly considered.