A nice email came into my inbox a couple of days ago -- one of my friends circulating the shortlist (finalists) for the Aurealis Awards, and there was one of my stories in the Young Adult category. Writers are funny creatures. Our self-confidence waxes and wanes faster than the moon, ebbs and flows faster than the tides. It's lovely to get such validation, to sit amongst such august company. This is the first time I've made the finalist's list -- in the past the closest I've come is having a short story commended in the fantasy short story section, and that was a pretty fantastic thing to happen.
I've noticed a couple of my friends on this list: Adam Browne and Cat Sparks, so I wish them both good luck! And mine is one of my Clarion stories, the only one I've reworked so far, so I have to give thanks to all my Clarion buddies and to Nalo Hopkinson who gave me comments on this story. And of course to Western Women Writers who read it as well!
I learn so much from others -- I do believe that each of us is shaped by the shoulders of the giants we stand on, and I've had some great giants along the way. (Hi, Sherryl!) Whether I've learnt enough from them is another matter, of course, but one of the most exciting things about writing is that no matter how much you know, there's always so much more to learn. I love learning new stuff.
Here's the link to the list of finalists in case you want to peruse the list further.
Showing posts with label Clarion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Clarion. Show all posts
10 December 2007
20 September 2007
Writing groups: part 1: critiquing
One of my students asked for information about what to look for in a writing group. I feel like something of a connoisseur of writing groups, having been in four: Western Women Writers, Western Union Writers, Melbourne Writers Group and SuperNOVA (formerly NOVA). Each of these groups has been different in structure and in what they offered me. Some have been a better fit for me than others, but what is important is finding the group that offers you the best fit.
You need to decide what you want out of a group. Do you want a group that critiques your work -- that tears it apart and analyses it and says what's working and what isn't? A good critiquing group is worth its weight in published manuscripts. However, a critiquing group is not for everyone. Some people are not robust enough to take honest criticism, whether they are new writers or experienced. I've seen published writers come and sit through a critiquing session at Western Women Writers and quaver at the level of criticism. If you think hearing negative comments about your story may destroy your confidence, then you're not yet ready for this kind of group. Find another type of group, one that's more encouraging, until you're ready.
There is more than one kind of problem that arises in a group with a member who is not ready for workshopping. Firstly, it can destroy that writer's confidence -- especially if they're a new writer. (This can arise from both constructive and destructive criticism -- more on destructive criticism later.) The second problem that can arise out of someone not ready for workshopping is when they feel compelled to argue against every suggestion made. Nothing annoys workshopping members more than someone who is not receptive to comments. The workshoppers wonder why they have wasted their time when they could have been writing! Another form of this is the writer who seems to accept criticism but never learns from it, and continues to make the same mistakes, or even worse who re-presents the same piece over and over with virtually no changes, and all the workshopping suggestions ignored. (Actually, there is something that annoys workshoppers more: when the critiques are all delivered and the new member sits back with a smug grin and says, "Well, actually, you're all wrong, because that story's already been published." Don't do it. It's a sure-fire recipe for ending what could have been a beautiful beginning.)
Some groups are more supportive than critical. Western Union Writers is like this. If ever there was a group suited to the nervous beginner, it's this group -- and it offers plenty for more-experienced writers too. Writers take their work along and read it out loud and the the rest of the group offer gentle criticism and lots of encouragement. It's a great way to practise your reading-aloud skills, to network with other writers so you don't feel so alone -- the writer-in-the-garret syndrome -- and they do run workshops and have a writers' retreat once a year. Great stuff if that's what you're after and many writers are. And that's fine, but if you're really serious about getting published, at some time you're probably going to need a good critique group.
A professional-level critique group will give you far more criticism than pats on the back -- professionals hardly ever pat each other on the back. What they're after is ways to make this story the best story it can be, not an ego-stroking. If you want to be a writer you should shelve that ego right now! (Shelving it is good both to stop you getting a bighead when things are going well, but also to keep you from despair when they're not.)
A word about destructive criticism, because I said I'd come back to it. Destructive criticism helps no-one and shouldn't be tolerated. Ever. If you do want a critiquing group, make sure the criticism is constructive -- ie that it helps you by suggesting ways you could fix things. Years ago, after a masterclass at the Melbourne Writers Centre, I had one writer who reacted badly to a critique I gave on his story (which I thought worked very well overall) by sledging a piece of my work. He started out with, "I wish I could say something good about this story, but there was nothing." Luckily for me, the workshop convenor, Jack Dann had plenty of good things to say about it.
Clarion is an intensive workshop experience, and there's stories of writers who go and never write again. I know afterwards my own output dried up for a while, but I was suffering burnout as much as anything. I went into Clarion at the end of teaching,and in my six weeks living in a student dorm with no airconditioning in Brisbane's hottest summer on record (at the time), I wrote six stories (including a trunk story I wrote just before going up) and one collaborative story, 50,000 words of a journal, worked a little on my novel, critiqued over 500,000 words and then went straight from Clarion into a teaching round that had already started. Too much. But I can see why some writers never write again: it's a hothouse of emotions as creative energy is sapped by the relentless pressure, and the crits are hard (but fair). It's like the most intense writers' group you could ever imagine, but, yeah, you have to be ready for the criticism!
You need to decide what you want out of a group. Do you want a group that critiques your work -- that tears it apart and analyses it and says what's working and what isn't? A good critiquing group is worth its weight in published manuscripts. However, a critiquing group is not for everyone. Some people are not robust enough to take honest criticism, whether they are new writers or experienced. I've seen published writers come and sit through a critiquing session at Western Women Writers and quaver at the level of criticism. If you think hearing negative comments about your story may destroy your confidence, then you're not yet ready for this kind of group. Find another type of group, one that's more encouraging, until you're ready.
There is more than one kind of problem that arises in a group with a member who is not ready for workshopping. Firstly, it can destroy that writer's confidence -- especially if they're a new writer. (This can arise from both constructive and destructive criticism -- more on destructive criticism later.) The second problem that can arise out of someone not ready for workshopping is when they feel compelled to argue against every suggestion made. Nothing annoys workshopping members more than someone who is not receptive to comments. The workshoppers wonder why they have wasted their time when they could have been writing! Another form of this is the writer who seems to accept criticism but never learns from it, and continues to make the same mistakes, or even worse who re-presents the same piece over and over with virtually no changes, and all the workshopping suggestions ignored. (Actually, there is something that annoys workshoppers more: when the critiques are all delivered and the new member sits back with a smug grin and says, "Well, actually, you're all wrong, because that story's already been published." Don't do it. It's a sure-fire recipe for ending what could have been a beautiful beginning.)
Some groups are more supportive than critical. Western Union Writers is like this. If ever there was a group suited to the nervous beginner, it's this group -- and it offers plenty for more-experienced writers too. Writers take their work along and read it out loud and the the rest of the group offer gentle criticism and lots of encouragement. It's a great way to practise your reading-aloud skills, to network with other writers so you don't feel so alone -- the writer-in-the-garret syndrome -- and they do run workshops and have a writers' retreat once a year. Great stuff if that's what you're after and many writers are. And that's fine, but if you're really serious about getting published, at some time you're probably going to need a good critique group.
A professional-level critique group will give you far more criticism than pats on the back -- professionals hardly ever pat each other on the back. What they're after is ways to make this story the best story it can be, not an ego-stroking. If you want to be a writer you should shelve that ego right now! (Shelving it is good both to stop you getting a bighead when things are going well, but also to keep you from despair when they're not.)
A word about destructive criticism, because I said I'd come back to it. Destructive criticism helps no-one and shouldn't be tolerated. Ever. If you do want a critiquing group, make sure the criticism is constructive -- ie that it helps you by suggesting ways you could fix things. Years ago, after a masterclass at the Melbourne Writers Centre, I had one writer who reacted badly to a critique I gave on his story (which I thought worked very well overall) by sledging a piece of my work. He started out with, "I wish I could say something good about this story, but there was nothing." Luckily for me, the workshop convenor, Jack Dann had plenty of good things to say about it.
Clarion is an intensive workshop experience, and there's stories of writers who go and never write again. I know afterwards my own output dried up for a while, but I was suffering burnout as much as anything. I went into Clarion at the end of teaching,and in my six weeks living in a student dorm with no airconditioning in Brisbane's hottest summer on record (at the time), I wrote six stories (including a trunk story I wrote just before going up) and one collaborative story, 50,000 words of a journal, worked a little on my novel, critiqued over 500,000 words and then went straight from Clarion into a teaching round that had already started. Too much. But I can see why some writers never write again: it's a hothouse of emotions as creative energy is sapped by the relentless pressure, and the crits are hard (but fair). It's like the most intense writers' group you could ever imagine, but, yeah, you have to be ready for the criticism!
29 July 2007
Group novel
Our writing group is attempting a group novel. It's the first time I've done something like this, but as with the collaborative short story I wrote with Bren and Zara, collaborators-extraordinaire, at Clarion South this is turning out to be an invigorating experience.
The project came about because we were talking about putting together an anthology for a competition, and I said it would be good if we could attempt something different because we've done the themed antho before, and it's always good to expand your boundaries. So of course our godmother, who heads the group and runs it with the strict eye of a mafioso matron, said, "What exactly did you have in mind?" And of course I had nothing, but that meant some fast thinking on my feet.
So we had another meeting about it, and I was supposed to come in with a more concrete idea when in reality all I still had was this fuzzy notion of what it could be. Thinking on your feet among creative people is always a plus because they can't help chipping in ideas. (Watch the slip into historical present tense.) Godmother listens to it all, putting forth ideas too, and then says, "Well, it could be one of two types of book. Which do you want it to be?" And she talks about the differences. One part of me hopes for one type because that will make me most uncomfortable, but I know too it might be too big a stretch for the group (except for Godmother who is comfortable in both genres). The decision is a group one -- this has long moved away from personal realms into the group consciousness, as such projects have to do to be successful. Everyone has to embrace it or it will fall flat. The group opt for the second option, and I'm happy because this is the one we all can have a go at. Godmother has taken a very wonky idea and made it happen. Every writing group needs someone with her practical know-how -- and her big stick!
And the plot ideas start to fly. Within an hour we have an expanded idea, a rudimentary plot worked out, five characters and their relationships, some minor characters (with a little fleshing out) and the first five scenes mapped out. And everyone's off to write.
One week later, everyone turns up with writing -- er, everyone bar me who didn't realise that we were supposed to have it started. Poor showing on my part. But I email my first scene and the next that night. One of the others emails me back and says I've been reading too much of my male students' work, which I take as a great compliment because I'm writing a male character.
Anyway, I haven't seen the group so energised for a while. Nothing like a new project, something different, to really get you going. I remember when Jack Dann suggested the collaborative story at Clarion. He was facing "the ferals" as he called us. Week 5. We were emotionally and, after four weeks of relentless Qld summer without airconditioning in our rooms, physically exhausted. He said he had to do something to get to us, and those stories really helped turn that week around. I'd come into it very low, and it turned out to be the most exciting of weeks. I think, similarly, that for us, this will be the time that stands out at the end of the year as the most fun and most productive for most of us. I'm really looking forward to seeing how it all comes together.
The project came about because we were talking about putting together an anthology for a competition, and I said it would be good if we could attempt something different because we've done the themed antho before, and it's always good to expand your boundaries. So of course our godmother, who heads the group and runs it with the strict eye of a mafioso matron, said, "What exactly did you have in mind?" And of course I had nothing, but that meant some fast thinking on my feet.
So we had another meeting about it, and I was supposed to come in with a more concrete idea when in reality all I still had was this fuzzy notion of what it could be. Thinking on your feet among creative people is always a plus because they can't help chipping in ideas. (Watch the slip into historical present tense.) Godmother listens to it all, putting forth ideas too, and then says, "Well, it could be one of two types of book. Which do you want it to be?" And she talks about the differences. One part of me hopes for one type because that will make me most uncomfortable, but I know too it might be too big a stretch for the group (except for Godmother who is comfortable in both genres). The decision is a group one -- this has long moved away from personal realms into the group consciousness, as such projects have to do to be successful. Everyone has to embrace it or it will fall flat. The group opt for the second option, and I'm happy because this is the one we all can have a go at. Godmother has taken a very wonky idea and made it happen. Every writing group needs someone with her practical know-how -- and her big stick!
And the plot ideas start to fly. Within an hour we have an expanded idea, a rudimentary plot worked out, five characters and their relationships, some minor characters (with a little fleshing out) and the first five scenes mapped out. And everyone's off to write.
One week later, everyone turns up with writing -- er, everyone bar me who didn't realise that we were supposed to have it started. Poor showing on my part. But I email my first scene and the next that night. One of the others emails me back and says I've been reading too much of my male students' work, which I take as a great compliment because I'm writing a male character.
Anyway, I haven't seen the group so energised for a while. Nothing like a new project, something different, to really get you going. I remember when Jack Dann suggested the collaborative story at Clarion. He was facing "the ferals" as he called us. Week 5. We were emotionally and, after four weeks of relentless Qld summer without airconditioning in our rooms, physically exhausted. He said he had to do something to get to us, and those stories really helped turn that week around. I'd come into it very low, and it turned out to be the most exciting of weeks. I think, similarly, that for us, this will be the time that stands out at the end of the year as the most fun and most productive for most of us. I'm really looking forward to seeing how it all comes together.
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