It’s no secret that the workshop’s the thing. In all of my writing experience, I’ve had no better success with significant changes than ideas generated in workshop critique. When you don’t have a relationship with those who are reading your work, they can form a relationship to the writing that’s fairly independent of their view of you. It’s intensive, but in a different way - a face to face with your words that’s different than a face to face with you, even if the topic happens to be your manuscript.
I’ve gotten to a point where I don’t know enough about how to contextualize the manuscript’s completeness on my own; I’ve had readers and have responded to their responses, but I’ve exhausted a lot of my resources around me (plus, I feel bad burdening friends to use their spare time on my efforts if they don’t volunteer). I think it’s time that I have people who know nothing about my work, my ideas, and me take a good, hard look back at my writing. I know the manuscript isn’t finished - there are many places in which it could be more polished, scenes that could spark better, and probably many opportunities that I’ve created and haven’t siezed that need to be uncovered. So, I owe it to myself to dig them up.
With the very, very little disposable income I have, I’ve applied to a 92Y advanced fiction workshop. It’s a serious commitment - weekly two-hour workshop classes for a full year, and I’m not guaranteed admission, but rather have to be accepted on the basis of a manuscript submssion. I’m keeping hopeful, because I know that it’ll help me push myself in the direction I need to go. And, if I don’t get it, I need to not take it personally - but building up the insulation of my skin is always an ongoing, separate battle.
I’m excited about the idea of getting back into the classroom - somewhere which, if all goes well, I hope to be for the better part of my life. Fingers crossed on this one. On a lot of things.
M
