Some thoughts on Story Club itself.

Prompted by a very sweet question.

As you read this, Paula and I are likely on a road trip to Arizona.  But, as I write this, we haven’t left yet.  So, I hope we are having, and have had, a great time.  😊

Our question for the day:

Q.

This question isn’t really about writing, at least I don’t think it is, though I wouldn't be surprised if you made it about the deeper aspects of writing, of connecting with yourself and others. I’m pretty sure it’s a question about teachers and students.

I feel like a student again in Story Club, in the best possible way, in the way I remember feeling in college 40 years ago - inspired by possibilities, by the beauty of a world unfolding in front of me, by the awareness and appreciation that comes with new understanding and explanations. I can tell from the comments sections that I am not alone in this. That is such a huge gift you have given to all of us in Story Club. I must admit I am a little surprised at how great it is here.

So my question is, What did you originally have in mind and how has it surprised you (if it has)? Is Story Club just like your Syracuse class but, you know, 'a little larger?’ Is it different because you only know us through words, not faces in the classroom? Or maybe because the attendance is so huge? Are you surprised by the intimacy, beauty and success of this thing you have wrought, like watching a child grow and learn and venture forth and bring back to you things you didn’t actually teach her but she found or attempted because of your guidance?

The Club is an extraordinary space where people feel seen, respected, even treasured. There is a lot of mutual support amongst the group and phenomenal appreciation of your gifts, wisdom and generosity. I’m not sure another writer, who is not also a great teacher, could pull this off like you have. We are all your students, attentive and eager to participate. So I am wondering…what is this like from your side of the screen?

Thanks, as always, for the time and deep attention that you devote to this.

A.

Thank you so much for this generous question.  It makes me really happy to hear all of this.

Yes – I’ve been really surprised by what this has turned into.  Originally, I had the idea of trying it for a year.  I was a little resistant at first; worried it would interfere with my writing (au contraire, as it turns out) and that I would get burned out on being so public, and/or talking so much about process. 

But I’ve found it to be a really wonderful thing, a blessing, even. The sense of community and connection here has been mind-blowing.  (It feels like the very best possible version of a “public life.)” 

I’ve been gratified to learn just how many people have literature at the center of their lives and of their thinking.  I feel like I’m being given a chance to imagine my audience better. When I see the incredible receptivity out there, it makes me think I can really swing for the fences in my work.

I’m also really proud of “us,” collectively, for demonstrating that the internet doesn’t have to be an anonymous, agitated place but can, with enough care, be an extension of the way we actually behave in real life (on our good days, I guess).  

We can disagree affably, we can reconsider our positions, we can support our thoughts with details and specificity.  We can remember, always (as we have to do when writing) that the person on the other end of a communication is every bit as real as we are, and as in need of the benefit of the doubt, and some tenderness. 

It’s so interesting the way that, time after time here, I see potential disagreements vanish in the light of mutual goodwill, by way of the assumption: “This person is not so different from me and if I signal positive intentions and patience, we can connect, even over difficult subjects.”

One of the other things we’re doing here each week is reminding ourselves the way we express ourselves really does matter — it’s everything. Everything else (politics, culture, the tone of a civilization) begins with that. And we can get better at expressing difficult, nuanced ideas, by practicing, and by closely studying successful examples of transcendent communication.

Story Club is different from my Syracuse teaching in one important way: at Syracuse, in workshop, I read and closely edit the work of my students.  Here, in our Office Hours segments, I’ll often get a really great technical question and do my best to answer it, but I can only do so generally – the real (better) answer would come in the form of line edits, which would then lead to an in-person (or on the phone) conversation.  In that conversation, we might get around to talking about specific blockages or strengths, or tendencies, particular to that writer. 

And this can sometimes (not always, but sometimes) take us even deeper, into the realm of philosophy or life choices or even spiritual questions.  By getting to know the student and then doing intense line edits on her work, I sometimes can see how certain habits or assumptions are blocking that writer from doing her best work.

That is a deeply rewarding process, when it works. And we exactly can’t do that here.

However…

…Story Club is similar to the teaching I’ve done in what we call “Forms courses” at Syracuse - basically “literature for writers.” At the core of this kind of teaching is the belief that any response to a story is valid, as long as it’s honest, specific, and civil. That’s where we always have to start (from a genuine reaction), especially when reading and critiquing.  (What did I feel, and where?) 

Also similar is the idea that, in both forms of teaching, I’m not “knowing something” and then dropping it on you; rather, I’m trying to foster a conversation/throw a little party.  And this, in turn, means that I have to foster, in myself, true faith in you, the “class.” 

Sometimes the teacher’s job is just to articulate something (say it plainly), so it can come out into the light, where the student can accept or reject it (can decide whether it’s relevant to his practice).  Often, the student already knows – the teacher is just trying to nudge him into “remembering” that thing he already knows. 

I’m also trying to give my students faith in the value of their fundamental perception of things – of the work we’re reading, of their opinion on their own work. Most intellectual frustration, I find, comes when a person is trying to feign a view – sound smart, quote authoritative sources, stay within some existing dialectic – instead of getting in touch with his or her genuine reactions.

All of this is as true here in Story Club as it is in the classroom at Syracuse.

So, in short, I’m more invested in Story Club than I ever thought I would be.

And one of the great benefits of it is being the recipient of the kind of openness and generosity shown in this very question.

Thanks to you all for being here and…onward!