There's some deep dharma in this, in seeing everything as your teacher. It extends so far beyond the confines of art or creative mentorship alone. It's really a "self-gaming" technique for living harmoniously and purposefully in general. Thanks for this! (It's my first day in the club and already obsessed with it! 😂 )
When I was 23 (but felt more like 10 inside), I was admitted into a PhD program. A critical studies program, and I was happy, I thought, because it was "something" - other people seemed impressed by it. My parents were. It just wasn't the thing I wanted to do, which was an MFA, but applying for what I really wanted seemed a lot harder than applying for something that other people would approve of.
I was completing my MA in this program; it was the early Spring, and the PhD program would start that Fall. One day I arrived early to a seminar. A visiting professor asked me what my plans for the future were. I explained I just got accepted to the PhD program.
His face changed. "You were accepted?" I paused, uncertain of what to say.
He began to thumb through a pile of essays, and then found mine, He read something on the page and shook his head. "You don't have what it take to do a doctorate," he said. He continued reading my essay, frowning. "And look at this section... Why did they accept you," he asked.
Not knowing what else to do, I tried to apologize for my essay. "I'm certain I have a lot to develop--"
"Oh, no," he continued. He looked at me directly now. "Your writing is not PhD material."
Just at that moment other students came in, and within moments the seminar started. I pretended to follow along in the discussion, but my hands were shaking under the table. I felt unmasked: It was not just my writing - it was me. I was not good enough.
I did not know that day this professor gave that speech to other students before and after me. I assumed his words must be true because he was the professor. I was filled with shame; afraid, as well, that if I brought up what he said to any other professors, they might suddenly reach the same conclusion.
I eventually entered, and then walked away from, that PhD program. Not because of the visiting professor - but because I finally listened to myself. This painful experience was a gift, after all, and he was a mentor:
-I realized that if I was going to pursue something, I needed to pursue what I really wanted to (the MFA) and really wanted to work at;
-I accepted I am imperfect, as is my writing, and that, at the same time, I have the right to continue and work at both;
-I learned that in talking to anyone, especially students and writers (of any age), that you can be honest but kind; that you can, and must, find a way to build people, not break them.
I am sorry that 23-year-old was so ashamed and fearful. I am proud that she learned from the experience and, most of all, kept going - and that today she could even tell all of you about this experience.
MVM, so sorry you had to endure, but how wisely forgiving you are of yourself, a wonderful thing if learned a hard way. So glad you told us! I, too, once had such an anti-mentor, as Dan DeNoon so aptly puts it, though I'm not as nice. I refer to mine (long, blessedly, dead if I may be forgiven for saying so) as The Little Sh*t. It took me longer than it should have to get over the damage this so-called famous American writer did. Glad you righted your course & followed your heart! Yay for that!
I had a professor during my MFA, a well respected, award winning writer, who, as our first class meeting started, opened up with "you're all shit." For the next hour or so, he berated all of us for a variety of infractions and inadequacies in our writing. When he finally came up for air, he decided it was time for a break - he needed a smoke.
During the break, we all bitched to each other about what an asshole he was.
Ten minutes later, most of us returned. But some didn't. The professor looked around the table and said "Good, got rid of the ones who weren't serious about learning something." Then he smiled big and said "let's get to work."
It was a great class and I learned an amazing amount.
Sometimes that harshness is to see if you've got what it takes to stick it out against resistance. At least it was for us. And in most places I've seen this technique used.
We had some of that also in my MFA. This experience was a one-to-one attack in private; he was not part of a selection committee. The professor was fired not long after. Others spoke out, and the professor's methodology was not deemed professional.
The dressing-down I had by the so-called teacher/great American writer I referred to earlier as The Little Sh*t was public. At a conference. In front of thirty-some other students. It was just awful. This, I learned later, was not his first flame-throwing episode. Though it soon would be his last. At another conference another student, having had enough, took TLS aside during a break and beat the crap out of him. Screams, I was told, could be heard coming from the hallway. The student was female & probably twice TLS's size. I'm not saying that this is the correct way to respond, only that it's one way to respond.
In a way, once I regained my bearings & righted myself, I kind of felt sorry for the guy, that meanness & bad behavior was what he thought it took. This was years ago but I still think of him, such as I think of him at all, as TLS. I'm not that forgiving!
This is such a fine line. Surely, the professor meets George's definition of mentor but I've seen too many professionals who justify abuse as guidance (or worse, it's part of their grooming process) and others who believe all must suffer as they did. But I also think all students benefit from confronting the reality of their work. It sometimes takes a frank and firm assessment to burst the bubble of genius aspiring artists carry around hoping never to pop for fear of looking all wet. The skilled mentor delivers the cut surgically without the intention to shame.
Hopefully more young people from different backgrounds are writing and taking these classes, kids from other cultures, from tribal lands, first generation to go to college, etc. I can see how this method might be discouraging..."I guess I really don't belong here" might be the reaction. As a reader, I like to read stuff written by people who come from all socio-economic and cultural backgrounds. I wonder if this method is like being hazed at a frat house. Who is it filtering out?
That’s one method. But I don’t think tearing people down as a start to build them up is necessary. It’s not boot camp. So basically the lesson is anyone who makes it is a thick-skinned egoistic fill-in-your-curse-noun. That’s just not true.
I have heard many stories about that type of technique, and wonder whether it’s all that useful. On the one hand, it’s probably somewhat destructive to those of us with, for whatever reason, any kind of fragility. On the other, writers get pounded down in the real world, so that fragility needs to be turned inside out. Possibly it might be better for mentors to be encouraging, while life kicks us around. But as with everything else, it depends on who you are, and what you need at any given moment, to learn to thrive.
So, many of you had already acquired a degree of humility, and experienced some thickening of the skin? (Which feels like letting go of ego, and of perfectionism, and, yes, being open to learning something.) And were driven to keep going, regardless of negative or positive feedback?
What an anti-mentor! Sadly, there are many very talented and even brilliant people who could provide mentoring but who prefer to seek acolytes rather than mentees.
One of my mentors, the psychologist Earl Brown, used to say that the mentor gets as much out of the relationship as the mentee. That surprised me at first, and I didn't really get it until I mentored a young journalist and experienced the joy of her success as she surpassed me.
Yes. Like a parent learning as much if not more as the child. What’s the use of everything we have and know if we don’t give it away? Ashes in the mouth.
Yes! I’ve been the co-president of an advocacy board for young adults with cancer for, like six or seven years (too long!). It pinged my ego to when eager new voices stepped up, but I knew it was just my ego in the way. So I just let it go (my ego) and instead supported the new voices. The program is better for it. I’m still involved where I’m needed and act as a mentor when needed.
Jeez. Kids under 25 are still developing, and to be such a jerk...I'm just astonished by that visiting professor. Lots of kids would've dropped out, discouraged. You remind me of a quote I heard...I think it's from "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" but not sure. "I'm like an oyster. You throw sand at me and I pop out a pearl."
I was lucky to hear a program from the BBC on Gandhi on my way home from work late last night. What a gift! There’s a person who only became more steadfast as the authorities did their best to shut him down.
Hahahaha! These punishments are fantastic! I did some writing on my last one. Well I added some words to my post, so that was an edit, too. We both have to write something. I'm going to try to fiction for the first time and not worry if it sucks, how 'bout that? I'll take your deadline, too. 9/30.
Yay! Let me know if you want to trade stories in October.
I know, it’s hard to be okay with the parts of one’s work that suck. But the only way to write is to learn to recognize the parts that are not working, and invent ways to improve them. This is possibly the biggest takeaway I am getting out of these past eight months. (Well, beside the takeaways about generosity…)
I think you are right to be proud of that 23 yr old who had the courage to listen to herself, learn and keep going. That was an awful experience, he probably thought that it was a ‘test’ that he was giving you. I suspect that he loses a lot of good students that way!
It's a crime what gets labeled as "teaching" — so much harm done in the name of "education." Brava for your resilience and your finding your own path your own voice! And thank you for your inspiration!
There is so much here, MVM, that I want to hear more of your story. I spent most of my life in higher Ed and have run into so much behavior like that professor’s. I know there is another book or 12 in there about it all.
Thank you so much for this. What a story!! Sorry you had to go through that, in that way (did this guy think he was separating the weak from the strong in this arrogant manner?), but I’m so glad you are thriving now!
Good lord was that a great essay. I mean, the Story Club post was filled with wonderful writerly advice, but—wow—that linked essay makes me want to be a better person. Thanks, George.
So beautiful. I love this post paired with the PDF you included, My Writing Timeline. Together they are sublime and work like infinity mirrors.
But this from the excerpt:
"Doug gives me the single greatest bit of advice on writing dialogue I have ever heard. And no, I am not going to share it here. It is that good, yes."
Right! But…in a class I took a year ago with Kritika Pandey (love her writing, by the way), she turned us on to a wonderful essay on dialogue by none other than…Douglas Unger! It’s on his website, I believe. So much good stuff in that essay…first, second and third level dialogue, some fantastic examples, and mind-stretching exercises. Another piece that is greater than the sum of its parts.
I’m grateful I was one of four people in Kritika’s class, The Elements of Fiction, where we read the Unger article…some of Kritika’s writing can be found on her website,
This was actually discussed long ago here in Story Club (Dec 8, 2021). Here's your answer (which was dug up by Story Clubber "D.A.")!
"...Doug said that dialogue shouldn’t be realistic, should be “charming, beautiful, and propulsive,” and should not directly correspond so that the fictive world is expanded."
After D.A. posted that nugget, George responded with this in the threads:
"He also told me to think of the lines of dialogue as poetry - pay attention to the rhythms and so on...and he said something like...when one person is listening to another person talking, inside Person 1's head is this sort of cartoon bubble of thoughts, and when he responds, he is responding out of that - almost never directly to what the other person is actually asking...also did a sort of permission giving by saying that good dialogue doesn't necessarily sound like"real" talking (because real speech is often halting/partial/unintelligible. Something like that. It was a long time ago but it opened up a door for me..."
Also, here is a link: https://www.davidsonian.com/georgesaunders/ NOTE: I've not opened this link as my wifi is currently too spotty. So i can't vouch for it, but D.A. had posted it in December.
Thank you so much, Mary! I had a vague memory that this had been discussed already, but couldn't for the life of me figure out where. You saved the day (again)!
Not sure where to place this, but sending positive energy to Salman Rushdie and Henry Reese. Writers should not have to put their lives on the line…or maybe it’s always been, and always will be, a hazardous calling, to speak truth to madmen, among others.
😂😂😂 I know! But all respect to the teacher - I’m still thinking about it. Is it a joke? Never explain? Let the reader work it out for themselves? Betcha if he does tell us we will never forget now!
I thought the same thing! Dialogue is the thing I struggle with the most. I've been secretly hoping that we'll read a dialogue-driven story, then discuss...
I like dialogue, but I second guess myself at times. Reading it out loud helps. But I’m sort of one-toned and I really want to explore really getting multiple voices and personalities.
Ha! Well thank you, Sarah (and awesome to “see” you here!) You know, I probably have some well-liquor tips if I dig deep, but none of the top-shelf VSOP that I’d categorize as the best pieces of dialogue advice I’ve ever heard :)
(Brief) story time: my son and I worked most of the day yesterday editing a video for YouTube. He knew what he was doing; he was helping me, the ignorant novice. I sent it to our marketing director last night, whose feedback was, “it looks amateur.” Of course, I was defensive of my son - but also was reminded of the post on writing groups, and what advice is constructive and what is not. (This advice was not constructive!) I wrote her back and asked what, specifically, made her think it looks amateur, so we can address the weaknesses. Then I opened my email to this wonderful post on mentoring, which I plan to share with my son. What a gift this will be to him as he begins his artistic career!! Thank you!
The dottiest teacher in my high school, who often showed up with her dress inside-out, once caught me laughing at another student’s work. I had a secret crush on this boy and was punishing him not only for his florid prose but for failing to notice my existence. The teacher yanked me into the hall by my collar and gave me a piece of her mind: “Don’t you ever—EVER—make fun of anyone’s writing! That boy is in love with words, and it’s a beautiful thing.”
The teacher was Georging me (“Kindness is the only acceptable response to the human condition”). As a teacher of literature, she was only so-so, but she had a gift for teaching life. I think of her often with affection and gratitude.
Sadly, no. He was diagnosed with schizophrenia as a young adult, never truly grew up, and died in an institution. By the standards of my high school, he was an angel-headed hipster. I doubt he ever thought of me, but I still think of him.
When I was 15, my mum left my dad, and somehow I got left behind with him, his slightly unhinged sister and his demented dying mother. I was naughty at school ( in a small way, slamming my desk lid, swearing under my breath etc). The young Spanish teacher spoke to me after class and asked me what was the matter. All I could think of to say was: I hate having breakfast on my own. Gradually she unpicked what had happened. My dad was a vicar and deeply ashamed. He was certain Mum would come back so told no one.
Later that term for Spanish homework we were to write a poem in Spanish. I wrote 3 verses in 3 tenses (I know!) about a house on fire and a girl in it. How utterly transparent but of course I didn’t see it at all at the time. On speech day an annual prize -the Potter prize for poetry was awarded. This was announced on the day. So I was amazed when my name was announced and the Spanish teacher came forward to read the poem in her beautiful pronounciation. Luckily no one understood it. But I loved that teacher so much. It was her first job and somehow she looked beneath the prickly exterior and saved me.
Probably the most effective version of the age-old writing advice "The only way to become a writer is to write" that I think I've read. Life as a mentor: seems like a pretty good position from which to live. Thanks George!
First, I’m moved to mention George’s comment on Story Club being a holistic kind of mentor in and of itself. This vibe you (George) have fostered serves much the same role to all us lonely anxious writers as we cross the wilderness that is the blank page. It’s not just the technical instruction and the deep, incisive reading we are prompted to do; it’s the sense of communal support. Also, you (George) have lightened the burden of the whole business of artistic neuroses that inevitably accompany any serious artistic endeavor. The attitude, the “this isn’t a life or death thing” approach, has been extremely additive for me. To say it is whimsical seems to cheapen it, but there is that sense. We’re here to develop our talent, any way we can, and your this-can-be-fun
approach is a great place to start. So thank you, George, and all other clubbers.
I've had my share of helpful mentors, and some real jerks, too. But one in particular probably didn't even know the influence he had on me. He was my freshman comp professor, in my first semester in college, long before I became an English major and declared, like Garp, that I would be a writer. I took freshman comp, despite taking AP English because my AP English teacher in high school encouraged me NOT to take the AP Exam. As an impressionable and shy young man who looked up to his elders and teachers with respect, I followed her advice and didn't take the test. All my friends did and passed and didn't have to take freshman comp.
Later in life I realized, "My AP English teacher told me to give up, to not try. Of all the...." Thanks, thanks a lot. I would learn not to do that to myself again nor to my own students.
This freshman comp teacher (a lecturer or T.A., perhaps, probably working on his PhD.) was a kind man, young, probably in his early 30s, old to me at 17. I was the ace grammarian in the class - passed the test worth 50% of my grade with a score of 102 out of 100.
But for the writing portion of the class, I wrote cliched, hackneyed drivel.
I was coaching little league baseball at the time and taking Coaching Baseball as a college course. I wasn't good enough to play, but I wanted to be around the game. Baseball was truly my first love. So I wrote about little league games for my freshman comp papers. I saw those papers 30 years later in boxes of keepsakes that my parents kept for years while cleaning their house after they died.
"Three and two count, bottom of the ninth, a hush grows over the crowd. The pitcher looks in for a sign. He shakes him off." - You can see where this is going.
This teacher asked me to a conference. He said (and I'm paraphrasing words I don't remember from 40 years ago) "I like baseball and sports writing as well as anyone. But what's with the cliches? There's nothing in that paper that belongs to you. It's everything bad about sports writing, the pat expression, the predictable events. Using fresh language will help you to be a better writer. I can see you have talent, and passion for your subject, but you need to freshen up your writing."
I'm sure my eyes were glazing over in that "teacher doesn't like my writing" kind of way, because he said, and this I do remember: "You may not get this now. But five years from now, something will click, and you will understand."
I took my B in the course and later met the man who would become my true mentor and became an English major, which then led me to becoming a teacher.
Five years after my freshman comp, at the ripe old age of 22, I was teaching my first class as a TA with full charge of a freshman English class at the University of New Mexico. As I struggled with a class full of writers committed to finding the best cliches, and the most, something in my head clicked about "freshening your writing." (I think I was teaching the famous essay by Paul Roberts, "How to Say Nothing in 500 Words.")
With that click, I remembered my freshman comp professor. It took five years until I was ready to hear what he had to say. I reached back through the years and said my silent "thanks" to the sky.
You are so damn lucky I wasn’t your freshman comp teacher. I taught freshman comp for two years in grad school and I learned a lot, but my students probably didn’t gain much. I have...some regrets.
I wasn’t all bad, I did try to teach with my grading and criticism. But some of the papers were so terrible. Some were so bad, we read them aloud in the GA office, which was maybe classless.
It was a very conservative Christian area (no offense meant, I call myself a Christian) and a lot of chosen paper topics - especially research and op-eds - were...of a type. I had a student argue for the Patriot Act because “if you haven’t done anything wrong, you don’t need to worry about your privacy being infringed upon.”
I graded them on the writing and not their personal views, of course. But it was really hard not to just write WTF on a lot of them.
Anyway, I was not a great teacher and I wish I had been better. I tried to balance positive and negative critique. But no one would’ve seen me as a potential mentor. Not proud of that.
Teaching is tough and not for everybody. I commend anyone who tries. You don’t know what it will be like for you until you stand in front of that class or sit down to stacks of “WTF papers.”
And you know, teachers have lives and ups and downs like everyone else. I loved teaching, the interaction with students, not so much the grading or administrators looking over my shoulder.
I had rough patches too. Went through a difficult divorce at one point while still a TA and had a student who just wanted to do anything to get under my skin. He finally commented on my jeans jacket, asked what decade I thought I lived in. It hit a nerve and I asked him (told him and pointed to the door) to leave. He cried to my boss, who was also on my PhD committee and married to the chair of that committee. Anyhoo, she called me in and said the student was so innocent and upset. And I retold the tale of “those people” - those students who were giving me trouble that term. (In that class was also a young woman for whom I was her overall favorite teacher in college and who became a friend and colleague on another project after she graduated.) I ran things by her and she said “those people” purposely conspired before class to see if they could get my goat. Well, my supervisor didn’t like the “those people” comment. And soon, I was on a year leave of absence. Ha!
Most of the time, though, my students enjoyed the classes, and I learned a great deal from them too.
Yeah, I still enjoyed it. It was a bit of purifying by fire. I guess any new experience is a mix of failing and learning. I think I could be a better teacher now (that I’m older and more experienced) or maybe it’s not meant for me.
I also taught creative non-fiction, which I liked better. I still wasn’t great (still pretty green) but those who were there wanted to be there and that helps.
I did have this description exercise, though, where I had them describe a scene in a room (or place) in a way that shows us why or how it was meaningful place for them without straight-up saying it. We had studied examples of this in stories.
I got multiple stories back that described the dimensions of a room and where each item was in matters of distance from other items. I don’t know if it was my failure or theirs. Probably both.
That reminds me of this great story about teaching kids to draw from the famous book Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain by Betty Edwards, which as it turns out is more about the process of creativity than specifically drawing. She said she was teaching basic drawing to kids - bowls of fruit, vases of flowers - and all her students work was so ... lifeless. It was awful. So she asked them to draw what they were looking at upside down. (Not them standing upside down, but standing right side up and physically drawing the thing they were looking at upside down. It changed the way they looked at the object before them. And the drawings exploded into life and art. At least that’s how I remember that passage. Speaking of mentors - that really stuck with me.
I was lucky. As aTA, I had very supportive mentors and supervisors, who blacked me even when I persisted in pushing students to do better, work harder and they resented it
More than once a student went to my supervisor. My side was thoroughly considered. If course, that was quite some years ago
Me and my fellow TAs also fretted and lamented over some of the poor writing and unsophisticated reasoning. We'd literally drink and grade and gripe. But we also found some reason talent. That was exciting.
Teaching is a challenge. Always. But well worth the effort. I would venture you did more good than you realize.
Suddenly being placed in the position of being a mentor really makes the memory/advice of your own mentors return, sometimes with a vengeance, sometimes like a saving grace. At least, that was me experience when I was a TA/Adjunct.
Did my best to not discourage and to encourage in equal measure
'The Party' decides that all cliches will be banned from public media speak (streamed, on scheduled programming, on radio, in print, and in other media platforms which I've overlooked) ... let's take one example of 'the harsh, real bite of the law of unanticipated consequences' ... no easy street jobs for pundits talking 'sports bollocks', or 'political bollocks' or 'spouting any other form of pretentious 'woke' bullshit' ... "Mmm" says 'RM' (aka as 'Regius Major' having morphed from his previous, down-to-earthly, persona 'Rupert Murdoch') "Exactly what's not to like?"
I know, it's the 👿 in me, always comes out when a heatwave coincides with a tour-de-farce of political gaslighting as is being played out through the traditional holiday and silly season month of August in the Sovereign State of Brexitania as I write, safe from TV News in Brittany, France (though it is a moot point for many Bretons, that is, whether they really subscribe - heart and mind - to actually being French at all. Like Middle Englander me, the Bretons of my acquaintance are generally at their happiest expressing their identity as 'Being of the Celtic Fringe!'.
Many of you Story Clubbers residing North America and elsewhere around this Blue Planet of Ours may not be aware that Ireland has, in large measure and very effectively established 'By-Pass Britain' sea routes to Europe. Meanwhile in 10 Downing Street 'The Zombie' normally known as 'The Convict' as well as still being, on many counts, 'The Suspect' insists on his right to play on as Caligula did to ensure, strategically, the undermining of the Roman Empire in the West.
Ever had that sinking feeling 👎 ?
Now Lee, to turn serious having said nowt that amounts to much in the some fraction of 500 words above, who have you 'directly / knowingly' or 'indirectly / less knowingly' been given the privilege of playing mentor to your self?
Some of the "disasters" turned into learning you recount strike me as another example of the wisdom of an aphorism attributed to John Wooden that was embedded in a novel I read recently: Things tend to turn out best for those who make the best of how things turn out.
It’s wild how often I’m brought to tears in this club. I just finished the post and the essay.
I remember first wanting a mentor when I was in high school and it continued until, well, not that long ago. When I was younger, I think I mostly wanted to be seen. I wanted someone to see potential in me and want to be part of helping it grow. I’d see peers being “taken under a wing” and think, but what about me?
I could be rather vulnerable and self-conscious at times. It was all tied up in my very fragile ego.
Ego has been on my mind in the last year or years or so. I’ve been searching out ways to tame my own ego. It keeps me from taking or giving criticism with grace. It makes me overconfident when praised, less forgiving of others.
When I see aside my ego, I’m more generous. What I receive from others becomes added joy rather than a dependence.
I see a tamed Ego in Doug listening to the student who needed to be heard. A tamed ego in Toby not shying away from criticism, but using it to teach his students. Generosity of spirit that I hope to near.
I taught classes in grad school. I was so green, kind of lazy and definitely not very generous. It didn’t help that I had a regular booth at a dive bar where I would get a pitcher of beer and grade. My comments got less, well, helpful, the lighter the pitcher. My poor students deserved better.
I had so much I wanted to remember to comment on while reading all of this, but I was in the car dealership waiting room without a notebook.
I do remember two things though:
1) I haven’t submitted a question for office hours. If I did, it would be: WHAT WAS THE DIALOGUE ADVICE FROM DOUG??! Sorry for yelling, but that’s how it was in my head.
2) Just a fun comment: My folks also met, were engaged three weeks later (on the third date), and married a year later. They just celebrated their 50th anniversary. I guess when you know, you know.
Lanie, what you wrote here about your ego and how you waited to be discovered and encouraged and what you wrote about how you treated your students is so considerate , so truthful, and so honest. I think maybe you were more helpful to your students than you might think.
I, too, used to wait for praise and waited so long to be “found out” and waited for someone to unearth my talents-though this really happened some times, on occasions- I learned very recently, only a few years ago, not to wait to be discovered, not to wait for praise, not to postpone my talent . I learned to find my talent, to build myself. The nice thing is that I am teaching my students these wisdoms now. I tell them to be proud of themselves as they really are and be proud of what they can do. I encourage them to try different and multiple things as a way to find out more about their potentials instead of waiting for Godot
I was engaged after two weeks. Married 24 years. Divorced. Now married again (13years together so far). Maybe I should have waited one more week before that first engagement...?
This cracked me up. There really is no perfect formula. My husband was dating someone else when we met. Two years later, he was still dating her when I realized I loved him. We had become friends.
I told him I had feelings (and I knew he did) but I didn’t want to disrespect his girlfriend or be disrespected myself. He broke up with her by the end of the week. I moved to Chicago so we could date. And now we’ve been married eight years and counting.
I got cancer within six months of living in Chicago and gave him the option of leaving. I was stage IV. But he stayed. Best premarital counseling ever. In sickness and in health? No probs.
What a wonderful response to an equally wonderful question, so thank you George and anonymous Story Club member. I really appreciate naming the essential qualities of how so many of us show up here and that being the place we can approach our writing and life, with humility and curiosity. Thanks for this!
I think a lot of people misinterpret Mentor with pal or buddy. They want someone to hold their hand a bit and gently push them forward with sage advice and encouragement. A thoughtless comment by a professor or colleague or teacher of guitar that is demeaning oftentimes says more about the professor or colleague or teacher of guitar than it does the actual person they are directing their criticism upon. My daughter has received thoughtless “counsel” from her current school in Colorado, the School of Mines. Some of it is gender related which really gets my goat. Not all comments, however innocent, are helpful in life and can derail optimism, which we need so badly. I do try to protect her optimism.
It seems to me George that you carried this off handed comment made to you when you were a bright, hopeful 18 year old, all the way here into your 60’s. I am the same age as you. I have done the same. Perhaps your post triggered a memory for me. It reminds me why I love your writing so much. It’s not only beautiful, but is brutally honest but still gentle and kind. Which is a rarity in this universe.
Yes, I tell her about you so she knows that there are other roads people take after graduation because she’s a bit dismayed with the engineering world. She’s also a very good artist and there’s no balance there. They are all STEM, all the time. That being said, we are proud of her, she’s very smart, and CSM is a good school.
There's some deep dharma in this, in seeing everything as your teacher. It extends so far beyond the confines of art or creative mentorship alone. It's really a "self-gaming" technique for living harmoniously and purposefully in general. Thanks for this! (It's my first day in the club and already obsessed with it! 😂 )
Welcome, Tasha! Love your post!!
Thank you! Awesome to be in this community!
When I was 23 (but felt more like 10 inside), I was admitted into a PhD program. A critical studies program, and I was happy, I thought, because it was "something" - other people seemed impressed by it. My parents were. It just wasn't the thing I wanted to do, which was an MFA, but applying for what I really wanted seemed a lot harder than applying for something that other people would approve of.
I was completing my MA in this program; it was the early Spring, and the PhD program would start that Fall. One day I arrived early to a seminar. A visiting professor asked me what my plans for the future were. I explained I just got accepted to the PhD program.
His face changed. "You were accepted?" I paused, uncertain of what to say.
He began to thumb through a pile of essays, and then found mine, He read something on the page and shook his head. "You don't have what it take to do a doctorate," he said. He continued reading my essay, frowning. "And look at this section... Why did they accept you," he asked.
Not knowing what else to do, I tried to apologize for my essay. "I'm certain I have a lot to develop--"
"Oh, no," he continued. He looked at me directly now. "Your writing is not PhD material."
Just at that moment other students came in, and within moments the seminar started. I pretended to follow along in the discussion, but my hands were shaking under the table. I felt unmasked: It was not just my writing - it was me. I was not good enough.
I did not know that day this professor gave that speech to other students before and after me. I assumed his words must be true because he was the professor. I was filled with shame; afraid, as well, that if I brought up what he said to any other professors, they might suddenly reach the same conclusion.
I eventually entered, and then walked away from, that PhD program. Not because of the visiting professor - but because I finally listened to myself. This painful experience was a gift, after all, and he was a mentor:
-I realized that if I was going to pursue something, I needed to pursue what I really wanted to (the MFA) and really wanted to work at;
-I accepted I am imperfect, as is my writing, and that, at the same time, I have the right to continue and work at both;
-I learned that in talking to anyone, especially students and writers (of any age), that you can be honest but kind; that you can, and must, find a way to build people, not break them.
I am sorry that 23-year-old was so ashamed and fearful. I am proud that she learned from the experience and, most of all, kept going - and that today she could even tell all of you about this experience.
MVM, so sorry you had to endure, but how wisely forgiving you are of yourself, a wonderful thing if learned a hard way. So glad you told us! I, too, once had such an anti-mentor, as Dan DeNoon so aptly puts it, though I'm not as nice. I refer to mine (long, blessedly, dead if I may be forgiven for saying so) as The Little Sh*t. It took me longer than it should have to get over the damage this so-called famous American writer did. Glad you righted your course & followed your heart! Yay for that!
I had a professor during my MFA, a well respected, award winning writer, who, as our first class meeting started, opened up with "you're all shit." For the next hour or so, he berated all of us for a variety of infractions and inadequacies in our writing. When he finally came up for air, he decided it was time for a break - he needed a smoke.
During the break, we all bitched to each other about what an asshole he was.
Ten minutes later, most of us returned. But some didn't. The professor looked around the table and said "Good, got rid of the ones who weren't serious about learning something." Then he smiled big and said "let's get to work."
It was a great class and I learned an amazing amount.
Sometimes that harshness is to see if you've got what it takes to stick it out against resistance. At least it was for us. And in most places I've seen this technique used.
We had some of that also in my MFA. This experience was a one-to-one attack in private; he was not part of a selection committee. The professor was fired not long after. Others spoke out, and the professor's methodology was not deemed professional.
The dressing-down I had by the so-called teacher/great American writer I referred to earlier as The Little Sh*t was public. At a conference. In front of thirty-some other students. It was just awful. This, I learned later, was not his first flame-throwing episode. Though it soon would be his last. At another conference another student, having had enough, took TLS aside during a break and beat the crap out of him. Screams, I was told, could be heard coming from the hallway. The student was female & probably twice TLS's size. I'm not saying that this is the correct way to respond, only that it's one way to respond.
What a story! If you can dish it out, you better be ready when it ricochets back.
In a way, once I regained my bearings & righted myself, I kind of felt sorry for the guy, that meanness & bad behavior was what he thought it took. This was years ago but I still think of him, such as I think of him at all, as TLS. I'm not that forgiving!
It is amazing that we have tended for centuries to think that meanness and brutality would result in peace, love, happiness and productivity.
A one to one attack is completely different. Sorry you had to go through that!
This is such a fine line. Surely, the professor meets George's definition of mentor but I've seen too many professionals who justify abuse as guidance (or worse, it's part of their grooming process) and others who believe all must suffer as they did. But I also think all students benefit from confronting the reality of their work. It sometimes takes a frank and firm assessment to burst the bubble of genius aspiring artists carry around hoping never to pop for fear of looking all wet. The skilled mentor delivers the cut surgically without the intention to shame.
Hopefully more young people from different backgrounds are writing and taking these classes, kids from other cultures, from tribal lands, first generation to go to college, etc. I can see how this method might be discouraging..."I guess I really don't belong here" might be the reaction. As a reader, I like to read stuff written by people who come from all socio-economic and cultural backgrounds. I wonder if this method is like being hazed at a frat house. Who is it filtering out?
Right!
That’s one method. But I don’t think tearing people down as a start to build them up is necessary. It’s not boot camp. So basically the lesson is anyone who makes it is a thick-skinned egoistic fill-in-your-curse-noun. That’s just not true.
I have heard many stories about that type of technique, and wonder whether it’s all that useful. On the one hand, it’s probably somewhat destructive to those of us with, for whatever reason, any kind of fragility. On the other, writers get pounded down in the real world, so that fragility needs to be turned inside out. Possibly it might be better for mentors to be encouraging, while life kicks us around. But as with everything else, it depends on who you are, and what you need at any given moment, to learn to thrive.
For us, it worked. But this was an advanced MFA, not a first year writing group, where it would have been wholly inappropriate.
So, many of you had already acquired a degree of humility, and experienced some thickening of the skin? (Which feels like letting go of ego, and of perfectionism, and, yes, being open to learning something.) And were driven to keep going, regardless of negative or positive feedback?
Yup. We figured we could learn something from him, even if he “didn’t like” what we were doing.
The best attitude in all situations, I imagine.
What an anti-mentor! Sadly, there are many very talented and even brilliant people who could provide mentoring but who prefer to seek acolytes rather than mentees.
They haven’t learned to get out of the way.
One of my mentors, the psychologist Earl Brown, used to say that the mentor gets as much out of the relationship as the mentee. That surprised me at first, and I didn't really get it until I mentored a young journalist and experienced the joy of her success as she surpassed me.
I know the feeling. A joy indeed.
Yes. Like a parent learning as much if not more as the child. What’s the use of everything we have and know if we don’t give it away? Ashes in the mouth.
Yes! I’ve been the co-president of an advocacy board for young adults with cancer for, like six or seven years (too long!). It pinged my ego to when eager new voices stepped up, but I knew it was just my ego in the way. So I just let it go (my ego) and instead supported the new voices. The program is better for it. I’m still involved where I’m needed and act as a mentor when needed.
Bravo! I bet you're great at it.
Jeez. Kids under 25 are still developing, and to be such a jerk...I'm just astonished by that visiting professor. Lots of kids would've dropped out, discouraged. You remind me of a quote I heard...I think it's from "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" but not sure. "I'm like an oyster. You throw sand at me and I pop out a pearl."
The only way to be.
I was lucky to hear a program from the BBC on Gandhi on my way home from work late last night. What a gift! There’s a person who only became more steadfast as the authorities did their best to shut him down.
Sorry Stacya, I edited one word! My punishment is to complete a story by 9/30/22, okay? Wait; put down that baseball bat…
Hahahaha! These punishments are fantastic! I did some writing on my last one. Well I added some words to my post, so that was an edit, too. We both have to write something. I'm going to try to fiction for the first time and not worry if it sucks, how 'bout that? I'll take your deadline, too. 9/30.
Yay! Let me know if you want to trade stories in October.
I know, it’s hard to be okay with the parts of one’s work that suck. But the only way to write is to learn to recognize the parts that are not working, and invent ways to improve them. This is possibly the biggest takeaway I am getting out of these past eight months. (Well, beside the takeaways about generosity…)
Anyway, bravo to you!!
Mary G and I chatted about driving all the way to you just to have a coffee and chat. One day! Yes, it will motivate me to trade stories.
It's true. A good reminder!
I think you are right to be proud of that 23 yr old who had the courage to listen to herself, learn and keep going. That was an awful experience, he probably thought that it was a ‘test’ that he was giving you. I suspect that he loses a lot of good students that way!
It's a crime what gets labeled as "teaching" — so much harm done in the name of "education." Brava for your resilience and your finding your own path your own voice! And thank you for your inspiration!
Thank you, Angela. You are very kind. I was so ashamed for years. It means a lot to know this story speaks at all to others.
There is so much here, MVM, that I want to hear more of your story. I spent most of my life in higher Ed and have run into so much behavior like that professor’s. I know there is another book or 12 in there about it all.
Whoa. That prof sounds like someone who enjoys cruelty.
Thank you so much for this. What a story!! Sorry you had to go through that, in that way (did this guy think he was separating the weak from the strong in this arrogant manner?), but I’m so glad you are thriving now!
Good lord was that a great essay. I mean, the Story Club post was filled with wonderful writerly advice, but—wow—that linked essay makes me want to be a better person. Thanks, George.
So beautiful. I love this post paired with the PDF you included, My Writing Timeline. Together they are sublime and work like infinity mirrors.
But this from the excerpt:
"Doug gives me the single greatest bit of advice on writing dialogue I have ever heard. And no, I am not going to share it here. It is that good, yes."
Oh, George, how could you do this to us? 😉
Right! But…in a class I took a year ago with Kritika Pandey (love her writing, by the way), she turned us on to a wonderful essay on dialogue by none other than…Douglas Unger! It’s on his website, I believe. So much good stuff in that essay…first, second and third level dialogue, some fantastic examples, and mind-stretching exercises. Another piece that is greater than the sum of its parts.
Ooh! Interesting. I found this: http://www.douglasunger.com/Writings-AnglesOnDialogue.html
Digging into it now . . . . Thanks, Story Club co-mentor! 🙂🙏
You’re welcome! That’s it! It’s such a thought-and-work-provoking piece.
Oh wow, thank you so much, both of you. ♥
I’m grateful I was one of four people in Kritika’s class, The Elements of Fiction, where we read the Unger article…some of Kritika’s writing can be found on her website,
kritikapandey.com
I especially loved “The Goddess Who Wanted Out,” and her letter to her father,
Thank you and David both for this!
Thank you!
This was actually discussed long ago here in Story Club (Dec 8, 2021). Here's your answer (which was dug up by Story Clubber "D.A.")!
"...Doug said that dialogue shouldn’t be realistic, should be “charming, beautiful, and propulsive,” and should not directly correspond so that the fictive world is expanded."
After D.A. posted that nugget, George responded with this in the threads:
"He also told me to think of the lines of dialogue as poetry - pay attention to the rhythms and so on...and he said something like...when one person is listening to another person talking, inside Person 1's head is this sort of cartoon bubble of thoughts, and when he responds, he is responding out of that - almost never directly to what the other person is actually asking...also did a sort of permission giving by saying that good dialogue doesn't necessarily sound like"real" talking (because real speech is often halting/partial/unintelligible. Something like that. It was a long time ago but it opened up a door for me..."
Also, here is a link: https://www.davidsonian.com/georgesaunders/ NOTE: I've not opened this link as my wifi is currently too spotty. So i can't vouch for it, but D.A. had posted it in December.
Thank you so much, Mary! I had a vague memory that this had been discussed already, but couldn't for the life of me figure out where. You saved the day (again)!
Thank you for that! Douglas Unger expands on this in many directions in “Angles on Dialogue.”
i'm going to read it when my wifi is stronger. Thank you, David!
Not sure where to place this, but sending positive energy to Salman Rushdie and Henry Reese. Writers should not have to put their lives on the line…or maybe it’s always been, and always will be, a hazardous calling, to speak truth to madmen, among others.
Speaking TRUTH always puts you in harms way^^
To quote a famous film, far too many of us can’t handle the truth. Many tragedies, and some slivers of light, in that.
How are you doing, Graeme?
Horrifying, saddening, maddening. A hazardous calling indeed. Speaking truth has never been easy nor often accepted well. Tragic day.
horrifying news
My heart goes out to them. Fingers crossed.
You’re so welcome. Let me know what you think about it. I should reread it and do more of the exercises!
Thanks, I hadn’t seen that.
Cool. Thank you for finding that!
😂😂😂 I know! But all respect to the teacher - I’m still thinking about it. Is it a joke? Never explain? Let the reader work it out for themselves? Betcha if he does tell us we will never forget now!
You mean like he's put into practice the advice by teasing us?
*Always leave 'em wanting more.* kinda thing?
heh
I was like, I haven’t submitted a question yet - can this be my question. What was the dialogue advice?!
I thought the same thing! Dialogue is the thing I struggle with the most. I've been secretly hoping that we'll read a dialogue-driven story, then discuss...
I like dialogue, but I second guess myself at times. Reading it out loud helps. But I’m sort of one-toned and I really want to explore really getting multiple voices and personalities.
Maybe we’ll get a huge influx of dialogue advice, now!
Yes I had the exact same question, glad to see I’m not alone! What was that brilliant dialogue advice? Thank you all for this thread :)
I imagine you probably give some pretty brilliant dialogue advice yourself, Alex. 😎
Ha! Well thank you, Sarah (and awesome to “see” you here!) You know, I probably have some well-liquor tips if I dig deep, but none of the top-shelf VSOP that I’d categorize as the best pieces of dialogue advice I’ve ever heard :)
😎
(Brief) story time: my son and I worked most of the day yesterday editing a video for YouTube. He knew what he was doing; he was helping me, the ignorant novice. I sent it to our marketing director last night, whose feedback was, “it looks amateur.” Of course, I was defensive of my son - but also was reminded of the post on writing groups, and what advice is constructive and what is not. (This advice was not constructive!) I wrote her back and asked what, specifically, made her think it looks amateur, so we can address the weaknesses. Then I opened my email to this wonderful post on mentoring, which I plan to share with my son. What a gift this will be to him as he begins his artistic career!! Thank you!
The dottiest teacher in my high school, who often showed up with her dress inside-out, once caught me laughing at another student’s work. I had a secret crush on this boy and was punishing him not only for his florid prose but for failing to notice my existence. The teacher yanked me into the hall by my collar and gave me a piece of her mind: “Don’t you ever—EVER—make fun of anyone’s writing! That boy is in love with words, and it’s a beautiful thing.”
The teacher was Georging me (“Kindness is the only acceptable response to the human condition”). As a teacher of literature, she was only so-so, but she had a gift for teaching life. I think of her often with affection and gratitude.
I love that: to George a person.
It’s great!
Thank you, great story! But…did this florid boy notice you after that?
Sadly, no. He was diagnosed with schizophrenia as a young adult, never truly grew up, and died in an institution. By the standards of my high school, he was an angel-headed hipster. I doubt he ever thought of me, but I still think of him.
So sorry to hear that, Rona. It sounds like he had quite an impact on you.
When I was 15, my mum left my dad, and somehow I got left behind with him, his slightly unhinged sister and his demented dying mother. I was naughty at school ( in a small way, slamming my desk lid, swearing under my breath etc). The young Spanish teacher spoke to me after class and asked me what was the matter. All I could think of to say was: I hate having breakfast on my own. Gradually she unpicked what had happened. My dad was a vicar and deeply ashamed. He was certain Mum would come back so told no one.
Later that term for Spanish homework we were to write a poem in Spanish. I wrote 3 verses in 3 tenses (I know!) about a house on fire and a girl in it. How utterly transparent but of course I didn’t see it at all at the time. On speech day an annual prize -the Potter prize for poetry was awarded. This was announced on the day. So I was amazed when my name was announced and the Spanish teacher came forward to read the poem in her beautiful pronounciation. Luckily no one understood it. But I loved that teacher so much. It was her first job and somehow she looked beneath the prickly exterior and saved me.
That which does not George us, makes us stronger...
Probably the most effective version of the age-old writing advice "The only way to become a writer is to write" that I think I've read. Life as a mentor: seems like a pretty good position from which to live. Thanks George!
First, I’m moved to mention George’s comment on Story Club being a holistic kind of mentor in and of itself. This vibe you (George) have fostered serves much the same role to all us lonely anxious writers as we cross the wilderness that is the blank page. It’s not just the technical instruction and the deep, incisive reading we are prompted to do; it’s the sense of communal support. Also, you (George) have lightened the burden of the whole business of artistic neuroses that inevitably accompany any serious artistic endeavor. The attitude, the “this isn’t a life or death thing” approach, has been extremely additive for me. To say it is whimsical seems to cheapen it, but there is that sense. We’re here to develop our talent, any way we can, and your this-can-be-fun
approach is a great place to start. So thank you, George, and all other clubbers.
I've had my share of helpful mentors, and some real jerks, too. But one in particular probably didn't even know the influence he had on me. He was my freshman comp professor, in my first semester in college, long before I became an English major and declared, like Garp, that I would be a writer. I took freshman comp, despite taking AP English because my AP English teacher in high school encouraged me NOT to take the AP Exam. As an impressionable and shy young man who looked up to his elders and teachers with respect, I followed her advice and didn't take the test. All my friends did and passed and didn't have to take freshman comp.
Later in life I realized, "My AP English teacher told me to give up, to not try. Of all the...." Thanks, thanks a lot. I would learn not to do that to myself again nor to my own students.
This freshman comp teacher (a lecturer or T.A., perhaps, probably working on his PhD.) was a kind man, young, probably in his early 30s, old to me at 17. I was the ace grammarian in the class - passed the test worth 50% of my grade with a score of 102 out of 100.
But for the writing portion of the class, I wrote cliched, hackneyed drivel.
I was coaching little league baseball at the time and taking Coaching Baseball as a college course. I wasn't good enough to play, but I wanted to be around the game. Baseball was truly my first love. So I wrote about little league games for my freshman comp papers. I saw those papers 30 years later in boxes of keepsakes that my parents kept for years while cleaning their house after they died.
"Three and two count, bottom of the ninth, a hush grows over the crowd. The pitcher looks in for a sign. He shakes him off." - You can see where this is going.
This teacher asked me to a conference. He said (and I'm paraphrasing words I don't remember from 40 years ago) "I like baseball and sports writing as well as anyone. But what's with the cliches? There's nothing in that paper that belongs to you. It's everything bad about sports writing, the pat expression, the predictable events. Using fresh language will help you to be a better writer. I can see you have talent, and passion for your subject, but you need to freshen up your writing."
I'm sure my eyes were glazing over in that "teacher doesn't like my writing" kind of way, because he said, and this I do remember: "You may not get this now. But five years from now, something will click, and you will understand."
I took my B in the course and later met the man who would become my true mentor and became an English major, which then led me to becoming a teacher.
Five years after my freshman comp, at the ripe old age of 22, I was teaching my first class as a TA with full charge of a freshman English class at the University of New Mexico. As I struggled with a class full of writers committed to finding the best cliches, and the most, something in my head clicked about "freshening your writing." (I think I was teaching the famous essay by Paul Roberts, "How to Say Nothing in 500 Words.")
With that click, I remembered my freshman comp professor. It took five years until I was ready to hear what he had to say. I reached back through the years and said my silent "thanks" to the sky.
You are so damn lucky I wasn’t your freshman comp teacher. I taught freshman comp for two years in grad school and I learned a lot, but my students probably didn’t gain much. I have...some regrets.
I wasn’t all bad, I did try to teach with my grading and criticism. But some of the papers were so terrible. Some were so bad, we read them aloud in the GA office, which was maybe classless.
It was a very conservative Christian area (no offense meant, I call myself a Christian) and a lot of chosen paper topics - especially research and op-eds - were...of a type. I had a student argue for the Patriot Act because “if you haven’t done anything wrong, you don’t need to worry about your privacy being infringed upon.”
I graded them on the writing and not their personal views, of course. But it was really hard not to just write WTF on a lot of them.
Anyway, I was not a great teacher and I wish I had been better. I tried to balance positive and negative critique. But no one would’ve seen me as a potential mentor. Not proud of that.
Teaching is tough and not for everybody. I commend anyone who tries. You don’t know what it will be like for you until you stand in front of that class or sit down to stacks of “WTF papers.”
And you know, teachers have lives and ups and downs like everyone else. I loved teaching, the interaction with students, not so much the grading or administrators looking over my shoulder.
I had rough patches too. Went through a difficult divorce at one point while still a TA and had a student who just wanted to do anything to get under my skin. He finally commented on my jeans jacket, asked what decade I thought I lived in. It hit a nerve and I asked him (told him and pointed to the door) to leave. He cried to my boss, who was also on my PhD committee and married to the chair of that committee. Anyhoo, she called me in and said the student was so innocent and upset. And I retold the tale of “those people” - those students who were giving me trouble that term. (In that class was also a young woman for whom I was her overall favorite teacher in college and who became a friend and colleague on another project after she graduated.) I ran things by her and she said “those people” purposely conspired before class to see if they could get my goat. Well, my supervisor didn’t like the “those people” comment. And soon, I was on a year leave of absence. Ha!
Most of the time, though, my students enjoyed the classes, and I learned a great deal from them too.
Yeah, I still enjoyed it. It was a bit of purifying by fire. I guess any new experience is a mix of failing and learning. I think I could be a better teacher now (that I’m older and more experienced) or maybe it’s not meant for me.
I also taught creative non-fiction, which I liked better. I still wasn’t great (still pretty green) but those who were there wanted to be there and that helps.
I did have this description exercise, though, where I had them describe a scene in a room (or place) in a way that shows us why or how it was meaningful place for them without straight-up saying it. We had studied examples of this in stories.
I got multiple stories back that described the dimensions of a room and where each item was in matters of distance from other items. I don’t know if it was my failure or theirs. Probably both.
That reminds me of this great story about teaching kids to draw from the famous book Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain by Betty Edwards, which as it turns out is more about the process of creativity than specifically drawing. She said she was teaching basic drawing to kids - bowls of fruit, vases of flowers - and all her students work was so ... lifeless. It was awful. So she asked them to draw what they were looking at upside down. (Not them standing upside down, but standing right side up and physically drawing the thing they were looking at upside down. It changed the way they looked at the object before them. And the drawings exploded into life and art. At least that’s how I remember that passage. Speaking of mentors - that really stuck with me.
Yikes!
I was lucky. As aTA, I had very supportive mentors and supervisors, who blacked me even when I persisted in pushing students to do better, work harder and they resented it
More than once a student went to my supervisor. My side was thoroughly considered. If course, that was quite some years ago
Me and my fellow TAs also fretted and lamented over some of the poor writing and unsophisticated reasoning. We'd literally drink and grade and gripe. But we also found some reason talent. That was exciting.
Teaching is a challenge. Always. But well worth the effort. I would venture you did more good than you realize.
Suddenly being placed in the position of being a mentor really makes the memory/advice of your own mentors return, sometimes with a vengeance, sometimes like a saving grace. At least, that was me experience when I was a TA/Adjunct.
Did my best to not discourage and to encourage in equal measure
Imagine.
'The Party' decides that all cliches will be banned from public media speak (streamed, on scheduled programming, on radio, in print, and in other media platforms which I've overlooked) ... let's take one example of 'the harsh, real bite of the law of unanticipated consequences' ... no easy street jobs for pundits talking 'sports bollocks', or 'political bollocks' or 'spouting any other form of pretentious 'woke' bullshit' ... "Mmm" says 'RM' (aka as 'Regius Major' having morphed from his previous, down-to-earthly, persona 'Rupert Murdoch') "Exactly what's not to like?"
I know, it's the 👿 in me, always comes out when a heatwave coincides with a tour-de-farce of political gaslighting as is being played out through the traditional holiday and silly season month of August in the Sovereign State of Brexitania as I write, safe from TV News in Brittany, France (though it is a moot point for many Bretons, that is, whether they really subscribe - heart and mind - to actually being French at all. Like Middle Englander me, the Bretons of my acquaintance are generally at their happiest expressing their identity as 'Being of the Celtic Fringe!'.
Many of you Story Clubbers residing North America and elsewhere around this Blue Planet of Ours may not be aware that Ireland has, in large measure and very effectively established 'By-Pass Britain' sea routes to Europe. Meanwhile in 10 Downing Street 'The Zombie' normally known as 'The Convict' as well as still being, on many counts, 'The Suspect' insists on his right to play on as Caligula did to ensure, strategically, the undermining of the Roman Empire in the West.
Ever had that sinking feeling 👎 ?
Now Lee, to turn serious having said nowt that amounts to much in the some fraction of 500 words above, who have you 'directly / knowingly' or 'indirectly / less knowingly' been given the privilege of playing mentor to your self?
Some of the "disasters" turned into learning you recount strike me as another example of the wisdom of an aphorism attributed to John Wooden that was embedded in a novel I read recently: Things tend to turn out best for those who make the best of how things turn out.
Such a great quote! That’s it, really. Kind of like, “The meaning of life is to give life meaning.”
It’s wild how often I’m brought to tears in this club. I just finished the post and the essay.
I remember first wanting a mentor when I was in high school and it continued until, well, not that long ago. When I was younger, I think I mostly wanted to be seen. I wanted someone to see potential in me and want to be part of helping it grow. I’d see peers being “taken under a wing” and think, but what about me?
I could be rather vulnerable and self-conscious at times. It was all tied up in my very fragile ego.
Ego has been on my mind in the last year or years or so. I’ve been searching out ways to tame my own ego. It keeps me from taking or giving criticism with grace. It makes me overconfident when praised, less forgiving of others.
When I see aside my ego, I’m more generous. What I receive from others becomes added joy rather than a dependence.
I see a tamed Ego in Doug listening to the student who needed to be heard. A tamed ego in Toby not shying away from criticism, but using it to teach his students. Generosity of spirit that I hope to near.
I taught classes in grad school. I was so green, kind of lazy and definitely not very generous. It didn’t help that I had a regular booth at a dive bar where I would get a pitcher of beer and grade. My comments got less, well, helpful, the lighter the pitcher. My poor students deserved better.
I had so much I wanted to remember to comment on while reading all of this, but I was in the car dealership waiting room without a notebook.
I do remember two things though:
1) I haven’t submitted a question for office hours. If I did, it would be: WHAT WAS THE DIALOGUE ADVICE FROM DOUG??! Sorry for yelling, but that’s how it was in my head.
2) Just a fun comment: My folks also met, were engaged three weeks later (on the third date), and married a year later. They just celebrated their 50th anniversary. I guess when you know, you know.
Lanie, what you wrote here about your ego and how you waited to be discovered and encouraged and what you wrote about how you treated your students is so considerate , so truthful, and so honest. I think maybe you were more helpful to your students than you might think.
I, too, used to wait for praise and waited so long to be “found out” and waited for someone to unearth my talents-though this really happened some times, on occasions- I learned very recently, only a few years ago, not to wait to be discovered, not to wait for praise, not to postpone my talent . I learned to find my talent, to build myself. The nice thing is that I am teaching my students these wisdoms now. I tell them to be proud of themselves as they really are and be proud of what they can do. I encourage them to try different and multiple things as a way to find out more about their potentials instead of waiting for Godot
“Instead of waiting got Godot.” What a perfect way of expressing that.
I was engaged after two weeks. Married 24 years. Divorced. Now married again (13years together so far). Maybe I should have waited one more week before that first engagement...?
This cracked me up. There really is no perfect formula. My husband was dating someone else when we met. Two years later, he was still dating her when I realized I loved him. We had become friends.
I told him I had feelings (and I knew he did) but I didn’t want to disrespect his girlfriend or be disrespected myself. He broke up with her by the end of the week. I moved to Chicago so we could date. And now we’ve been married eight years and counting.
I got cancer within six months of living in Chicago and gave him the option of leaving. I was stage IV. But he stayed. Best premarital counseling ever. In sickness and in health? No probs.
Here's to many more loving years together for you and your husband!
This is a warm slap on the back to keep on. Thank you.
What a wonderful response to an equally wonderful question, so thank you George and anonymous Story Club member. I really appreciate naming the essential qualities of how so many of us show up here and that being the place we can approach our writing and life, with humility and curiosity. Thanks for this!
I think a lot of people misinterpret Mentor with pal or buddy. They want someone to hold their hand a bit and gently push them forward with sage advice and encouragement. A thoughtless comment by a professor or colleague or teacher of guitar that is demeaning oftentimes says more about the professor or colleague or teacher of guitar than it does the actual person they are directing their criticism upon. My daughter has received thoughtless “counsel” from her current school in Colorado, the School of Mines. Some of it is gender related which really gets my goat. Not all comments, however innocent, are helpful in life and can derail optimism, which we need so badly. I do try to protect her optimism.
It seems to me George that you carried this off handed comment made to you when you were a bright, hopeful 18 year old, all the way here into your 60’s. I am the same age as you. I have done the same. Perhaps your post triggered a memory for me. It reminds me why I love your writing so much. It’s not only beautiful, but is brutally honest but still gentle and kind. Which is a rarity in this universe.
CSM: my alma mater!
Yes, I tell her about you so she knows that there are other roads people take after graduation because she’s a bit dismayed with the engineering world. She’s also a very good artist and there’s no balance there. They are all STEM, all the time. That being said, we are proud of her, she’s very smart, and CSM is a good school.
Has she met or taken classes with Sandy Woodson? GREAT person and educator.
I will have to ask her about that. My daughter is a senior in Environmental Engineering so maybe.
FYI she has not had a class with her.