This is a phrase I’ve started using a lot lately, especially in memoir classes, but really, with any kind of writing: it’s about providing feedback through a literary/craft lens. Not making it personal (providing feedback has nothing to do with “I like/don’t like this”). In fact, those are amongst my banned words in workshop.*
I was thinking up an analogy for this one, and after having a couple different conversations about workshop with other creatives, here it is:
An architect is responsible for designing a solid structure. We’ve got the foundation, yea, and the walls and oh, the ceiling is build a certain way so that a second floor can be supported above it. Maybe there’s an attic, basement. Rooms, bla bla bla. Then there’s the aesthetic of the place: what kind of carpets, the color of the walls, the art (or lack thereof), the furniture, etc.
In a good workshop, we’re just focused on the architecture:
Is the house standing? (Like, first and foremost: what is the plot/is there a story here?)
Can you walk from room to room without getting stuck? (Are readers getting lost in the plot? Are readers confused with certain aspects?)
Is there a door that leads to nowhere? (plot hole)
Is a toilet in the middle of the bedroom (woops, is the reader confused about certain details you’ve mentioned? Does it make sense to have this aspect of the story here, or should we maybe move it to a different part of the book ie; move that toilet to the bathroom**)
What we’re not focusing on in workshop is style or taste. That’s for deeper levels of editing, between the author and their book, or perhaps later, between the author and their agent/editor. For now, we’re focused on artitecture. What elements could use some shifting in order for the house itself to just make sense?
We want the reader to be able to move through the house seamlessly, without getting stuck anywhere along the way.
Sure, there are certain elements of a house that can make it immediately more interesting than another house. Maybe it’s got a rounded front door and a porch that goes all the way around it; maybe the windows are shaped like triangles or there are ten tiny rooms or two huge rooms. Whatever. We want the plot itself to be memorable and interesting in some way. But when it comes down to the nitty gritty, leave that for later (mainly: let the writer figure out how to write their plot before you add to the already crippling anxiety of: Is this story good? Should I even be writing this? Can I even write? Should I give up? etc.)
First, here are the three top things we focus on in my workshops:
Moments that worked well. They add to the story, we’re not confused, and we’re curious to learn more about them. Overall green-light stuff.
Moments where we were confused or had a question. This is one of THE most valuable nuggets of feedback a writer can receive.
Accordion moments: Parts that could use expansion or contraction.
*A list of banned words/phrases in workshop:
I didn’t like…
You should…
What?? Or simply, “??” (I’ve seen a lot of passive aggressive-sounding notes in the margins, which essentially come of as: you sound dumb)
This is [insert name of adjective]
Ex: This is boring, cliche, lame, dull, uninteresting….
I’ve heard all of those adjectives uttered in workshops. The level of shut-down-ness this can cause is huge. Please, dear me, do not essentially tell another writer that they suck. We’ve all heard the cliche-but-true phrase “Words matter.” Well, they matter extra in a writing workshop.
Better ways of saying that:
I’d be curious to learn more about XYZ.
Does the character know XYZ yet?
I wonder if these two scenes belong on the same page? Both scenes feel like they have a lot to say.
I was a little confused about this character’s role; will we learn more about them later?
It seems like the character is thinking/takling about ___ a lot, I’m curious how this will come up later.
Anyway the list goes on but just to get the juices flowing.
Structural Engineers?***
Editing (in the house analogy, perhaps the editor is the structural engineer?) is a super valuable skill, and it takes a lot of practice to be able to look for the right ways of providing feedback. It’s why I pair my workshops with craft analysis of other stories so we can look at a story done well and point out all the ways this story worked. Like, yes we can look at those stories for the style (love the shag rug! hot painting! cool dishes! love the bidet!) but we’re really digging into stories with bigger questions: what choices did this writer make in constructing their plot? How did they build this house? How can we offer insights into helping tinker with the blueprints so we’re sure the house will be sturdy and etcetera?
Once we figure out how some of our most beloved writers did it, we can start applying some of those same architectural plans to our own work, taking inspiration from other houses to build our own.
Okay, stay tuned for more. And if you’re interested in talking more about this in real-ish life, come to the next Creative Chat. Free for paid subscribers (that sounds like a riddle but it’s not…)
Til next time,
Michelle
**A new catchphrase I’ll be using in workshop
***Any real engineers and architects out there, please cut me some slack on this for-fun analogy. I’m sure you’re scoffing at me. That’s okay.