It has come to my attention that I haven’t been a good blooger, I mean blogger, because I started rules on workshopping and stopped after the first one. Which was? Hmmm. That’s right, don’t apologise for what you have written. Ahh. It’s all coming back now. I’ve been a good little writer and reblogged rule number 1.
So rule number two. Here we go.
Just hang on a sec.
There are just so many that can slide in this slot.
I feel as if I’m dangling my toes over a diving board and looking into the abyss of a winter abused in-ground swimming pool. I can see Jaws Junior thrashing about. By the way, have I told you that the diving board is ten metres in the air … and I have a hungry child trying to climb up the ladder? And should they succeed in joining me …
Have I also mentioned that if by a miraculous twist of fate Jaws Junior misses my descent, the tiny cookie cutter sharks beneath him are bound to rip and tear me to shreds for being a bad blooger, blogger? At least it’s better than being called a booger.
And should the cookie cutter sharks … ohh, that’s just about enough of diving into writer’s depression.
Rule number 2: Tell them.
That’s it you say?
Clause 2a: Tell them what draft you are in. Are you at Jaws Junior level, cookie cutter depth or are you so deep into draft four, five or six that you have dived into the uncharted water and there’s no way you can break through the surface.
Why you ask?
If you happen to have written a first draft (this is a major milestone and should be applauded) worrying about tiny punctuation errors may be a waste of time because nine times out of ten your first draft will not look anything like your final draft. Discussions are needed for character development, setting, atmosphere, tension—story. If you are midway, then structure, grammar, and all the other aspects that will help start polishing the manuscript are needed.
Clause 2b: Tell them what you think is wrong, and don’t say everything, because that’s not true. Have a little confidence in yourself because it will go a long way. If you had a problem with plausibility, say so. Open it up, for not only workshopping the text, but for discussion. If you have a problem with names or world building, open it up for discussion. Trust me, it’s exhausting but fun.
Clause 2c: Tell them what not to work on. If I like my opening line, and there isn’t any punctuation, tense or other grammatical issues, I tell them I’m happy with it. Tell them that the setting is still in construction and you need more time, but you want the character’s reaction to a particular situation looked at. I’m happy with the voice, but unhappy with sequence.
And when I say tell them, I don’t mean yelling it down their throats and being a demanding princess high on authority. Manners are essential in keeping fellow workblobbers, I mean workshoppers happy. You don’t want them shoving your manuscript where the sun … I guess I just found rule number three.
Clause 2d: Ask questions. You ask people questions all the time. Learning is the only way we can move forward in life. The same goes for writing.
Have you ever been so overwhelmed in a workshop environment that you begin to believe that you don’t know enough to be a writer? I would love to hear about it. If you have a great workshop team, this will never happen and if by chance it does, tell them how you’re feeling. We all know what happens when a djinn has been released after a lifetime of being bottled up. We don’t want anyone turning into monsters or wishing they had never started writing in the first place and I definitely don’t want people self-doubting their ability to create wonderful stories.
As writers we shouldn’t ever feel like we’re trapped on a diving board. I’ll tell you one thing, if I have to take that leap, it will be one big cannon ball right on top of Jaws Junior’s head and should he eat me, I hope he dies from severe indigestion.
Workshop you later,