The magic and joy of a writing group
How workshop can transform your writing
Often when people learn I attended the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, they asked in a hushed voice, What was that like?
I tell them the truth: it was both revelatory and very hard.
My graduate school experience centered around workshop: once a week, we gathered around the table and discussed submissions from two different writers. There was no time limit; workshop went on as long as people had something to say. There was very little structure and only one real rule, which is that the writer being workshopped was not allowed to speak.
I learned an incredible amount from these discussions, watching my classmates and professors scrutinize a text, dissect how it was working on a line level, and make astute observations about structure and theme. Witnessing this deep noticing and analysis was vital to my growth as a writer.
I also remember the quiet wonder—around the table were people who had read my writing in advance and formulated thoughts about it. The ideas, dreams, and sentences I’d labored to get out of my imagination and onto the page being read and considered by others felt like a new law of physics: if your work is on the table, it is real.
Today, workshop is the cornerstone of my professional life, though I have made some amendments to the model I learned in graduate school. I don’t use the “cone of silence” approach (which I found very challenging and most people now agree is at best inefficient and at worst deeply damaging); the writer whose work is being discussed is invited to clarify their intended meaning and ask questions. The workshops I run exist emphatically to support the writer and their work and empower them with the tools to realize their creative vision.
We use a specific, two-part rubric I’ve developed** to spur careful, thoughtful discussions about our experiences of the pages shared.
In the first part, we review what’s working—what parts of the text are clear, emotional, informative? Where does the work feel real and moving? Where did readers feel deeply invested in the characters and story?
It’s vital for the writer to understand where their writing successfully engages readers, which affirms and encourages their instincts. In this part of the conversation, we offer honest praise freely. Celebration matters. I believe every workshop should set aside the time to count wins, which creates excitement and gives writers energy to continue the hard work.
In the second part of the discussion, we ask questions—what didn’t I understand? Where in the text was there confusion? Where did I want more detail, information, or emotion?
Criticism works best when instead of making generic, definitive statements, we get specific, granular, and personal, naming where in the text we had which reactions. It’s not so helpful to say, “This didn’t make sense.” It’s really helpful to say, “I wasn’t sure why this character made that choice on page 3.” My role as workshop leader is to guide a discussion that helps the writer understand where the text falters and offer concrete tools to revise.
I am deeply devoted to this work because I know workshop is magic.
A regular gathering of a group of writers who are committed to their writing as well as supporting other writers is nothing short of transformative. It creates a community where once there were merely strangers. It gives people the tools to write better. And it gives everyone confidence to more deeply inhabit their creativity.
And if you want more concrete outcomes, here are a few. People in my workshops have had their work published, have gone onto highly ranked MFA programs and writing institutes, have finished novels and memoirs they’d dreamed of writing. The results are very tangible.
So let me ask you this.
Are you hungry for deadlines and accountability that make you write more words faster?
For feedback on what’s exciting and effective about your writing?
For a trusting creative community who cheer you on and are invested in your story?
Are you ready to grow as a writer and live a more creative and fulfilling life?
Then you are ready, friend. There is a place for you at the table.
In the coming months, I will be convening a new workshop, a fresh group of writers ready to level up. If you want in, hit reply and type I WANT IN. Or hit reply and type, “Um I might be interested, but I’m not sure, maybe a little scared, what do you think?” I can also work with that!
And if you’re thinking, but I don’t live in North Carolina or I have a weird work schedule, don’t worry about it. In-person or Zoom, daytime or evening, biweekly or monthly—I’ll line up the logistics according to the named needs.
And if you’re thinking, wait is this for fiction or memoir? or But I’m not working on a book!, don’t worry about it. I’m looking for writers who want to commit to their writing, whether it’s fiction or non, whether it’s longform or not. People working in different genres and forms actually have a lot of useful feedback to bring one another.
So go ahead. Hit reply.
Give yourself the time and space you deserve to exercise your creativity.
Offer yourself the opportunity to hone your craft and expand your creative community.
Help yourself to the magic of workshop, the joy of writing.
There’s an empty seat at the table waiting for you.
J.
**This rubric is informed by my own experience, what I’ve learned from my students, and many books, including: Craft in the Real World by Matthew Salesses; The Anti-Racist Writing Workshop: How to Decolonize the Creative Classroom by Felicia Rose Chavez; A Stranger’s Journey: Race, Identity, and Narrative Craft in Writing by David Mura; and Critical Response Process by Liz Lerman.