Workshop Wednesday (006): Picking and Choosing
“High, high above the North Pole, on the first day of 1969,
two professors of English Literature approached each other
at a combined velocity of 1200 miles per hour.”
Changing Places by David Lodge
So what exactly is Workshop Wednesday? Well, it’s going to be an ongoing discussion of ways to read and critique (and hopefully improve) writing. Basically, I’m going to be drawing on my experiences in writing workshops through undergraduate and graduate studies and sharing them with you all. These posts are for everyone, whether you’re wondering how you can give good feedback to a writer friend, or whether you’re a writer yourself and want to find new ways to look at your writing. Hopefully these discussions will be helpful. And hopefully seeing a compelling first line in each post will inspire you to write your own, or to read the rest of that story!
Hey all! Today’s post is a little different, but I think it’s just as important in critiquing and writing as my past posts. I’d like to ramble on for a bit about fit.
I’ve noted previously that even if your writing friend hands you a manuscript that happens to be the type of story that you despise, you can still offer good criticism. It’s true. Granted, it would probably be difficult for both of you, but it’s certainly not impossible. I think it’s a rather genius method of getting someone to look at elements of craft that might be overlooked by a writer who specializes in the same genre. This is why I think workshops, while sometimes painful, can be awesome.
That said, though, there may be times when you offer a critique that just does not fit. This could happen for any reason. Neither of you should stress over it. You are absolutely entitled to offer what you bring to the table, and the writer is equally entitled to do with that feedback what she will. Please don’t be offended. The simple truth is that the writer must go with her gut, and ultimately, writing is about the choices she makes. Sure, that thing that bugged you may still be present in the story, but that thing makes the writer happy and is in line with her vision. If she will fight for it, it deserves to stay in.
As I’ve said before, never be afraid to say something. Just remember that your writer is in a tough spot and must listen to you as well as her little writing heart. 
Workshop Wednesday (002)
“124 was spiteful. Full of a baby’s venom.”
Beloved by Toni Morrison
So what exactly is Workshop Wednesday? Well, it’s going to be an ongoing discussion of ways to read and critique (and hopefully improve) writing. Basically, I’m going to be drawing on my experiences in writing workshops through undergraduate and graduate studies and sharing them with you all. These posts are for everyone, whether you’re wondering how you can give good feedback to a writer friend, or whether you’re a writer yourself and want to find new ways to look at your writing. Hopefully these discussions will be helpful. And hopefully seeing a compelling first line every week will inspire you to write your own, or to read the rest of that story!
All right, so last week my WW post was fairly simple. Read twice, get the whole picture before you start thinking critically. Easy as pie, right? Well, in addition to giving the writing a second chance, it’s good to take notes. This seems pretty intuitive. If you’re going to give feedback, or if you have an issue somewhere you’d like to look at in more depth later, you want to mark it so you can find it and you don’t forget.
Okay. But how intensive should these notes be? I’d say you probably don’t want to squeeze an entire analytical essay in the margins. But you want to get your thoughts down, for sure. I will admit that my line notes used to be pretty sparse, but I’ve found that forcing myself to do substantial line notes helps me formulate my ideas for a critique.
If you feel like you don’t have anything to say for a page or two, that’s acceptable. It happens. But I make an effort to make at least one note on most of the pages that I read. Don’t feel pressure to make each note a line of genius. You can simply mark up lines that you think are funny or clever or beautiful. You can put marks next to sentences you don’t understand, places where you felt something was off.
The key in these notes is trying to identify what you felt and why you felt it.
Perhaps you find a paragraph description of a garden beautiful. Why? Poetic word choice? Alliteration? Strong, vivid image painted by words? Allusion to paradise?
Maybe you feel bored on page twenty. Why? You don’t feel connected to the characters? They’re talking in cliches that don’t sound like natural conversation? They’re acting like they don’t care about each other when they just got married three pages ago and you don’t believe them?
It’s not an easy task. Trying to identify what text makes you feel and why you feel it can be tricky. When I first started taking writing workshops, I was terrified of and terrible at giving feedback. I’ve only really started feeling comfortable in writing workshops this school year, which means… when I came back to school at the end of September. And this is my second year of grad school.
If you’re stuck trying to figure out something that jumped out at you, don’t sweat it. Stop. Maybe step away from it and come back. Then try to ask yourself, how does this particular line or scene relate to the other scenes? Is the character different in this scene? Is the use of language or the tone different? Is it happy when it should be sad? Was there an expectation that wasn’t met? Or is there an expectation created that is not fulfilled later on?
There are a ton of questions you could ask and answer, and ways a criticism can go. But it all starts with taking notes on things you notice, good and bad. Don’t be afraid to wield the red pen. (Or even the blue one… or the green highlighter you’re using because you can’t find a a real pen or pencil in your house.) If you simply have a question, that’s helpful too. Sometimes writers know the answers in their heads, but forget to put them there on the page.
All notes are welcome. Not all notes are going to be taken into account, but everyone has something to contribute, so don’t be afraid to speak up. It’s taken me over twenty years to find my voice in school, but I’m glad I’m talking now.
Workshop Wednesday (001)
“Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendia was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice.”
One Hundred Years Of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Hello there! Welcome to the first post in my new series called “Workshop Wednesday.” I know, I know I’ve already got Toaster Tuesday, but I’ve been thinking of ways to incorporate some of this aspect of writing and reading into my blog, and I think this is the way to do it.
So what exactly is Workshop Wednesday? Well, it’s going to be an ongoing discussion of ways to read and critique (and hopefully improve) writing. Basically, I’m going to be drawing on my experiences in writing workshops through undergraduate and graduate studies and sharing them with you all. These posts are for everyone, whether you’re wondering how you can give good feedback to a writer friend, or whether you’re a writer yourself and want to find new ways to look at your writing. Hopefully these posts will be helpful.
My first point of discussion will be quite brief. It’s a simple tip if you’d like to critique a piece of writing: read the whole work at least twice.
The general rule is once for pleasure, and once for critique. But feel free to read a piece of writing as many times as you can if you’d like to critique the heck out of it. Why this rule of thumb? Of course you can dissect a piece of writing from one read. But doesn’t it help to know how the dance is supposed to look before you try to dissect it, step by step?
It’s important to know how a piece functions a whole, how the whole package comes together, so you know what the writer’s going for. It’s difficult to know the purpose of the opening line if you don’t know what it means in relation to the close.
Simple enough for our first week. But–at least, I think so–quite key. Read at least twice.
Now I bet you’re wondering what’s up with that quote at the top. Well, going off of what I’ve just said, I’ve decided that Workshop Wednesday needs the touch of professional writers out there. First lines are incredibly important for gaining the reader’s trust and commitment. Why not have a look at the classics? So every WW will feature an opening line, which will hopefully inspire you to read more (or again), or write your own first line.
And… There’s our first Workshop Wednesday. Hope you stick around for more!
