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The Art of Fiction:
Say What? Part I

by Lisa Lenard-Cook
September 2007

Dissonance, a Novel by Lisa Lenard-Cook Buy This Book via Amazon.com	Lisa Lenard-Cook is a regular columnist for Authorlink. She is an award-winning published author and writing instructor. This is another in the series, The Art of Fiction. Watch for her insights every month on Authorlink. Read more about Lisa.
	Critiques, whether in a workshop, from a teacher, or from an editor, can not only be difficult to interpret, but difficult to receive. Maybe that’s why beginning writers are often afraid to take this important step, and instead imagine millions of strangers reading their work while at the same time not showing it to anyone. In my next three columns, I’d like to look at each of these types of critiques individually. Let’s begin with that staple of MFA programs and writing conferences, the workshop.
". . . you’re far more likely to see problems in someone else’s work than in your own." —Lenard-Cook	Workshop 101 The most important thing you should know about a writing workshop is that you will learn more from the critiquing of others’ manuscripts-in-progress than from anything anyone (including the workshop leader, if there is one) has to say about yours. That’s because you’re far more likely to see problems in someone else’s work than in your own.
". . . the difficulties we note in others’ work are often our own. " —Lenard-Cook	This isn’t because you’re in denial. Rather, it’s because it’s hard to get that same sense of critical removal from your own work. I’d argue, however, that if you consistently seem to find wooden characters (or tense shifts, or aborted scenes, or, or or…) in others’ manuscripts, maybe you should look for these same problems in your own work. Just as the people who annoy us most often possess traits we dislike in ourselves, the difficulties we note in others’ work are often our own. Stick With the Big Stuff Even if you’re a professional copy editor, taking up workshop time discussing spelling and grammar is a waste of everyone’s time. If you must address these things, do so on the page, not in the workshop itself, and discuss it with the offender afterwards, if you’re so inclined.
". . . more important to look at in a workshop is whether a piece works or doesn’t." —Lenard-Cook	What’s more important to look at in a workshop is whether a piece works or doesn’t. If you’re not able to specifically say why, let someone else speak first. In the workshops I lead, I always get the first and last word. That’s because I can almost always tell what a manuscript lacks – as well as why it’s holding the rest of the group spellbound. Both of these lessons are equally important. Finding something wrong with a manuscript does not make you look like a better writer; unless you know what you’re talking about, in fact, it makes you look like a nitpicker, or worse, a bully.
". . . find something good about the work . . ." —Lenard-Cook	Diffuse the Gang-Bang This leads us directly to the number one problem of workshops: the group attack. This ugly practice does not occur in my workshops, where we focus on the writer’s vision for her fiction rather than the group’s perception. I hope that if you’re ever in a workshop where something like this happens (and it can be nasty), if the leader doesn’t step in, go ahead and do it yourself. Some ways of diffusing a workshop gang-bang: “Let’s focus on the work.” “I think we’re straying from task.” Still better, find something good about the work and refocus all that negative energy in a positive direction.
". . . and give it enough light and water (and hope) to flower." —Lenard-Cook	What If There’s Nothing Good? I believe that there’s always something worth honing in on. Every fiction began (begins) with the seed of something in its author’s mind, something he was compelled to commit to paper. That seed is somewhere in the fiction, and it’s the responsibility of workshop participants to dig it out and give it enough light and water (and hope) to flower. Writers who haven’t participated in workshops before can feel extremely threatened when their first efforts are critiqued. That’s why I make sure to not only uncover and nurture the seed, but show them, gently, where they made a wrong turn, and suggest how they might correct it.
"While peer writing groups don’t always have leaders, writing workshops do." —Lenard-Cook	The Workshop Leader While peer writing groups don’t always have leaders, writing workshops do. The workshop leader sets the rules, calls the shots, keeps the time, and cuts the cutters-off at the pass. As I insist the author being critiqued not speak while others are discussing her work, it’s my responsibility to both protect her and act as interpreter for what others say. Every workshop leader has a different style. At the annual Santa Barbara Writers’ Conference, where I teach, there are close to thirty of us, and we run the gamut from tough-as-nuts killers to strong-but-gentle me. So if you don’t like your workshop leader’s style, there’s a simple solution: Find another workshop. And no excuses if you’re in a small town or rural area; workshops have proliferated online.
". . . for its resulting manuscript to connect with others, we need to hear how others react to it." —Lenard-Cook	Why Workshop? The first flush of creativity takes place when we’re alone, but for its resulting manuscript to connect with others, we need to hear how others react to it. There’s such a thing as over-workshopping, and I discourage you from taking the same piece to more than one workshop, or returning to the same workshop with a reworked piece. I also discourage you from asking a workshop group to critique a piece you believe is perfect: It will break your heart (and your spirit) when they tell you everything they believe is wrong with it.
"At its best, a writing workshop helps the writer focus in on his work." —Lenard-Cook	At its best, a writing workshop helps the writer focus in on his work. He’ll learn what’s working (and why), and what’s not (and why). If you’ve not tried a writing workshop before, I’d highly recommend it. And if you’ve had a less-than-ideal workshop experience, I hope you won’t throw out the baby with the bathwater but rather will try another. Hearing what others think about your work is an important step on the path to writing success.

About Lisa Lenard-Cook	Lisa Lenard-Cook’s first novel Dissonance was short-listed for the PEN Southwest Book Award, and her second novel Coyote Morning short-listed for the New Mexico Press Women’s Zia Award. Lisa is on the faculty of the Santa Barbara Writers’ Conference and Vermont College’s Lifelong Learning Program. Her book about fiction writing, The Mind of Your Story, will be published in April 2008.

The Art of Fiction: Say What? Part I

The Art of Fiction:
Say What? Part I