What Can A Creative Writing Workshop Offer?
Part 1 in a three-part series for creative nonfiction writers
This is a three-part series on creative writing workshops. Part 2 will focus on how to choose or form a creative writing workshop. Part 3 will focus on receiving feedback in a creative writing workshop.
Speaking of which: I lead two ongoing writing workshops for writers of creative nonfiction — one online (every other Monday, in the evening) and one in person (monthly, during the day) in Durham, North Carolina.
These groups are made up of women and nonbinary writers who are working on creative nonfiction and memoir projects. I require a commitment of at least 6 months but many writers stay for years. Contact me if you’re interested in learning more!
If you want to become a better writer, I think that joining a writing workshop (sometimes called a critique group) is one of the best things you can do for your writing practice. (Although, in my opinion, being a part of a writing workshop is not the only way to improve your writing. There are other essential ingredients that make a difference, too: time, study of craft, engagement with a writing community, commitment to a regular writing practice, reading widely — especially in the genre you’d like to write in — and sharpening your skills of observation.)
How do I define writing workshop? A writing workshop is a group of 3 or more writers (I think 5-8 writers is the sweet spot) who meet for an extended period of time (months or even years) to send each other drafts of their works-in-progress and meet in person or on Zoom to give feedback on that work.
I think it takes about 6 months to build up the trust and safety necessary to begin giving constructive feedback to other writers. Some writing groups take place in MFA writing programs and some take place, like mine, independently. Some writing groups are informal and free, and some, like mine, are more formal and include fees.
Creative writing workshops are all unique. Each instructor facilitates their workshop in a different way, and each workshop is constantly evolving depending on the individuals taking part.
I lead my workshops in direct response to those I experienced as a student earning my MFA. I took a lot of positive perspectives and guidelines from those workshops. But I also learned about what I wanted to leave behind, what other things I wanted to emphasize, and the safe space I wanted to create that I believe is essential for bringing out creativity.
I suspect that the ways in which I view and teach a workshop will change and shift over time. Right now, after teaching in a workshop setting for many years, here’s what I believe about workshops:
A workshop is an experience
Each workshop session is different, and each workshop is made for us to exist in the moment, using all of our senses, to travel through all the emotions that pop up during this time, whether that’s joy, disappointment, sadness or excitement. To have time to sit and do something just for ourselves and in service of our art. To live into the decree that no man is an island, that the old days of Hemingway crafting prose alone in a bar is not the only way to write.
A workshop is discovery
Each writer will come into the workshop with different needs and wants — and these might even shift over time as each person discovers more about why they love to write and share.
A workshop is structure
Ideally, a writing group meets at the same time and place, weekly, or monthly, and the leader of this group is responsible for maintaining this structure.
A workshop is a process
Although each workshop begins and ends at a set time and place, the workshops will often build upon each other as familiarity and comfort grows. We must be open and adaptable to those changes, because that's where some of the learning happens.
A workshop is a practice
There’s a reason that many writers call it their writing practice instead of their writing habit. It’s a lifelong experience of practicing — sometimes toward an end goal, sometimes just to flex some writing muscles, sometimes to figure out what it is you have to say. Being able to enjoy that practice — even when it doesn’t look how you’d like it to look — is essential and vital to a workshop
A workshop is support and accountability
There is a unique form of support that comes from working with the same writers over time, seeing them grow and expand. Being in a writing group with others who are drafting, revising, submitting, receiving acceptances and rejections means that you know everyone else is doing the same hard work you’re doing.
A workshop is for the joy and commitment of community
Sharing, learning together and growing closer to the writer you want to be. Sitting with people and recognizing each of their unique gifts. Paying attention to what they have come there to say. Being a conscientious literary citizen and realizing that interdependence, rather than competition, is vital to creative work. Writing is a very solitary art form, so writing workshops are opportunities to fill up that social battery. You don’t have to be best friends with everyone in your writing workshop, but it’s not unusual for friendships to grow.
A workshop is for sparking new perspectives and observations about your work
You might see a word or a character or a chapter differently when reflected through someone else’s eyes.
A workshop is for the thrill of having your work read by someone else
A real, live human! For some this might be the first time they are sharing their work with others. This is a big deal! This is exciting!
A workshop is for inspiration
Hearing the music of someone else’s work when they’re reading it aloud and being transported somewhere new. Or maybe it jogs a memory of yours. Or maybe it makes you think of a piece you’ve been trying to write for a long time, and suddenly you get a new idea.
A workshop is for using new muscles
There is a challenge in putting yourself out there and doing something brave. All creative work is brave. Creative work in community is a whole new level of brave. The more you do it, the easier it gets.
A workshop is for revising with intention
To recognize which feedback was helpful and which you can discard. To recognize when and how to identify helpful feedback and how to give helpful feedback.
When you’re done with the workshop you’re not done with the full experience of workshopping. You still have the opportunity to process what you’ve discovered about your work, read over the comments from your other classmates, and simply let the workshop sit. There’s no rushing this part of the process.
Stay tuned for Part 2 of this series: How to Form or Choose a Writing Workshop.
I joined Substack because I am excited for the opportunity to bring together a community of other writers and readers who enjoy learning and thinking about writing creative nonfiction and memoir. If you’re excited about creating community too, or you learned something or enjoyed this post, consider giving it a like, letting me know your thoughts in the comments, or sharing it with the writers and artists in your life. Your support is so appreciated.
You are reading the intangibles, by writer and creative writing instructor Allison Kirkland. This publication is geared toward writers of memoir and creative nonfiction and the people who love them. Not ready to commit to a full subscription? You can always leave a tip.
Want more? You can find me on Instagram or visit my website. Thanks for reading. I’m so glad you’re here.
Great list! And *still* one of the pieces missing from my own writing. Part of my challenge is something you note which is trust. I don't want to be among strangers, "even" if they are other writers. Don't want to be with a group of AMAB guys (I'm also not interested in retreats with dudes). And do want writers who write creative non fiction. So it's been a puzzle! And one I will not solve before I leave for a year so I'll tackle it again when I get back. Appreciate this post, Allison.
Love this!