First of all, I’d like to say I wish I’d workshopped with Mr. Saunders. But unfortunately, the workshops I attended never guided the students, but ended up being a free-for-all for criticism. When I first began to write I took extension classes at the U of Minnesota and the Loft in Minneapolis. At least a couple of those classes were tau…
First of all, I’d like to say I wish I’d workshopped with Mr. Saunders. But unfortunately, the workshops I attended never guided the students, but ended up being a free-for-all for criticism. When I first began to write I took extension classes at the U of Minnesota and the Loft in Minneapolis. At least a couple of those classes were taught by published authors and structured on the traditional workshop model. I also was a member of a few informal writing groups and we also critiqued using that model. The workshop model encouraged the participants to find flaws, and since most of us were beginners, I began to question the value of theirs and my critiques. I came away from the workshopping with some good lessons learned and many faulty ideas about writing it’s taken me years to get rid of.
When I first began writing my very long novel (which has become meta-fictional) I was introduced, by a common friend, to a man who was also writing a novel. She thought we might like to meet and discuss our writing and we agreed. We met monthly for over two years, taking turns discussing a chapter of each of our works. The meetings with my writing buddy mostly taught me to trust my own intuition. I’d often get ideas for the scenes I was writing and then, because I thought it wasn’t the right way to write it, I’d leave it out. In other words, I was inhibited and feared doing something wrong. But when I met with my writing buddy, he’d often tell me I could have done more with the scene. I’d tell him the ideas I’d thought weren’t good enough and he’d say that was what was needed. Over time, I realized my intuitive imagination, or what Mr. Saunders calls the subconscious needs to guide my writing, and now I follow its leads. So, that was the most important lesson I ever learned. When I moved to Colorado, my writing buddy and I talked by the phone a few times, but he stepped away from writing, and at that point, I no longer wanted to share my writing with anyone. I knew I had to find my own way, as weird as it may be.
Now, when friends ask me to read and critique something they’ve written, if I feel something isn’t being said, I ask what they want to say in this scene, and often I tell them, ‘Yes, that’s what you need to write. Now write down everything you just told me and incorporate your passion for it in the story.’
It seems that many creative people in different fields have (at least) two modes of working, sometimes called 'forming' and 'norming'.
The former tends to work best when there is no critical analysis, just a generation of material; the second is a more analytical reshaping of the material.
Any two individual may swap between modes at different frequencies, and spend different amounts of time in each mode.
The approach can help avoid issues such as ditching a creative idea because the rational side doesn't yet know why it's significant, or why it's there at all.
Absolutely. Thanks for analyzing my comment (I'm not being ironic). Generation of material, followed by reshaping the material is a good way to look at the creative process. But I'll add that even in that analytical reshaping, the intuitive voice comes into play. When I tell a friend to incorporate their passion for what they want to say, I leave it to them to break it into dialogue, action, descriptive gestures, character's thoughts, etc. Even in that reshaping we can listen for guidance from the imagination, the subconscious. And then, there may be more reshaping....and so the circle goes round and round.
What is my process? Funny you should ask. Every time I read a good book, I want to ask the author, what’s your process? I even want to ask my 16 year old granddaughter who is a terrific writer. Sometimes it just pours out. I tell myself, first you write a sentence, and the scene may unfold. After that, of course, it needs extensive revision. Once I wrote a story in which my character was drowning. A friend told me she once had almost drowned, so I asked her to tell me about it, as I took notes, and then worked that description into the writing. Right now though, its more complicated. I want my characters to discuss how some stories are forgotten (theirs) and others are remembered (the victors), so I’m culling thoughts from my journal that I’d had written on storytelling, and am copying them into some kind of sequence (that must be the analytical part), and the characters will discuss forgetting and remembering (I’m sorry but do get a bit pedantic at times) in another chapter. After I get most of those ideas onto the ‘page’ then I’ll let the more intuitive part of me play with the pieces until they sing. I’ll change words, sentence construction, move them around, cut, paste, add bits and pieces here and there.
My process of revision is pretty much the same as Mr. Saunders describes. Where I differ from his process is that I like to write to the end to get the feeling for the story and then revise. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve revised these chapters. I simply don’t know. When I’m revising sentences, though that may be more analytic, I like my text to flow smoothly from one sentence to another, and that also informs the process. So, yes, Yin and Yang flowing into one another. Well, that was fun. Thanks for asking.
Should "friends" ever, sensibly "ask me to read and critique something they’ve written" strikes me as a question yo may have had occasion to consider Joan. Have you?
First of all, I’d like to say I wish I’d workshopped with Mr. Saunders. But unfortunately, the workshops I attended never guided the students, but ended up being a free-for-all for criticism. When I first began to write I took extension classes at the U of Minnesota and the Loft in Minneapolis. At least a couple of those classes were taught by published authors and structured on the traditional workshop model. I also was a member of a few informal writing groups and we also critiqued using that model. The workshop model encouraged the participants to find flaws, and since most of us were beginners, I began to question the value of theirs and my critiques. I came away from the workshopping with some good lessons learned and many faulty ideas about writing it’s taken me years to get rid of.
When I first began writing my very long novel (which has become meta-fictional) I was introduced, by a common friend, to a man who was also writing a novel. She thought we might like to meet and discuss our writing and we agreed. We met monthly for over two years, taking turns discussing a chapter of each of our works. The meetings with my writing buddy mostly taught me to trust my own intuition. I’d often get ideas for the scenes I was writing and then, because I thought it wasn’t the right way to write it, I’d leave it out. In other words, I was inhibited and feared doing something wrong. But when I met with my writing buddy, he’d often tell me I could have done more with the scene. I’d tell him the ideas I’d thought weren’t good enough and he’d say that was what was needed. Over time, I realized my intuitive imagination, or what Mr. Saunders calls the subconscious needs to guide my writing, and now I follow its leads. So, that was the most important lesson I ever learned. When I moved to Colorado, my writing buddy and I talked by the phone a few times, but he stepped away from writing, and at that point, I no longer wanted to share my writing with anyone. I knew I had to find my own way, as weird as it may be.
Now, when friends ask me to read and critique something they’ve written, if I feel something isn’t being said, I ask what they want to say in this scene, and often I tell them, ‘Yes, that’s what you need to write. Now write down everything you just told me and incorporate your passion for it in the story.’
It seems that many creative people in different fields have (at least) two modes of working, sometimes called 'forming' and 'norming'.
The former tends to work best when there is no critical analysis, just a generation of material; the second is a more analytical reshaping of the material.
Any two individual may swap between modes at different frequencies, and spend different amounts of time in each mode.
The approach can help avoid issues such as ditching a creative idea because the rational side doesn't yet know why it's significant, or why it's there at all.
Absolutely. Thanks for analyzing my comment (I'm not being ironic). Generation of material, followed by reshaping the material is a good way to look at the creative process. But I'll add that even in that analytical reshaping, the intuitive voice comes into play. When I tell a friend to incorporate their passion for what they want to say, I leave it to them to break it into dialogue, action, descriptive gestures, character's thoughts, etc. Even in that reshaping we can listen for guidance from the imagination, the subconscious. And then, there may be more reshaping....and so the circle goes round and round.
A very important point! Yin growing in the yang, and vice versa . . .
In fact, I'm in that process right now, trying to make sense of my notes, and clean up the mess. It will take some time.
Do you have a process for doing this, or is it more instinctive?
What is my process? Funny you should ask. Every time I read a good book, I want to ask the author, what’s your process? I even want to ask my 16 year old granddaughter who is a terrific writer. Sometimes it just pours out. I tell myself, first you write a sentence, and the scene may unfold. After that, of course, it needs extensive revision. Once I wrote a story in which my character was drowning. A friend told me she once had almost drowned, so I asked her to tell me about it, as I took notes, and then worked that description into the writing. Right now though, its more complicated. I want my characters to discuss how some stories are forgotten (theirs) and others are remembered (the victors), so I’m culling thoughts from my journal that I’d had written on storytelling, and am copying them into some kind of sequence (that must be the analytical part), and the characters will discuss forgetting and remembering (I’m sorry but do get a bit pedantic at times) in another chapter. After I get most of those ideas onto the ‘page’ then I’ll let the more intuitive part of me play with the pieces until they sing. I’ll change words, sentence construction, move them around, cut, paste, add bits and pieces here and there.
My process of revision is pretty much the same as Mr. Saunders describes. Where I differ from his process is that I like to write to the end to get the feeling for the story and then revise. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve revised these chapters. I simply don’t know. When I’m revising sentences, though that may be more analytic, I like my text to flow smoothly from one sentence to another, and that also informs the process. So, yes, Yin and Yang flowing into one another. Well, that was fun. Thanks for asking.
Should "friends" ever, sensibly "ask me to read and critique something they’ve written" strikes me as a question yo may have had occasion to consider Joan. Have you?
I don't know what you mean.