We were ushered as a group up to the third floor, via building zones and taped-up elevators. The hallway felt heated, as did the room when we first stepped inside. It was the usual cluster of chairs, the kind with the oversized tablet-top on the right hand side designed for note taking – the sort of furniture that causes furious frustration in left-handers (like me) who are forced to sit a bit awkwardly to write. (Do they make left-handed ones? I don’t think I’ve ever seen one.)
(But no matter!)
After a little while, after the nerves abated and our heart-stopping introductions were done, I felt the touch of cool air down my neck, tickling my senses. I don’t think my nerves never really settled down entirely. I sometimes shivered.
I also enjoyed every minute.
I haven’t been in a workshopping environment since 2003 when I was doing the CAE Novel Writing Course with Doris Leadbetter (who I miss more than I can express). I like reading other people’s work and, yes, I enjoy people reading mine because when you receive honest, constructive feedback it really does help you make decisions because you’re hearing opinions with perspective, which can often be lost when you’re immersed in something. I also like engaging with other people who are on the similar creative journeys. We might be at different levels of experience, or write in differing genres, but we’re drawn together by the fascination of craft.
And we were there to talk, to contribute. As Maria said, “I will be blunt. I will be critical.” And she was, but never brutally. I thought her honesty was refreshing.
Here’s some quotes I wrote over the course of the day:
“Please, writers, drop the obsession with finding the perfect similes.”
“Fiction is drama told scene-by-scene.”
“Fight your feelings of insecurity: let the facts speak for themselves. Go easy on exposition. You can have too much.”
“When you read good fiction you should see what’s happening, like in a movie.”
My piece was the beginning page of a short story I finished just before dad died. I was happy enough with the draft, but knew deep down that it’s not quite ‘there’ yet; and the feedback I got confirmed my suspicions. It’s about a high school principal on the last day of the year, mustering up the courage to do a speech at the major assembly when, behind the scenes, things are about to go very wrong.
One of the best parts? Her comments: “This is good. You write well. Well done!”
Yay!
(Guess what? It’s one year today since my session at the MWF. How time flies.)
