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As a writing instructor, it is always interesting to me to
talk with other writers who teach. I
enjoy hearing about the parts of the teaching process that excite them. This past June, I had the opportunity to talk
over breakfast with New York
writer Janice Eidus. She said:
When I guide writers in their creative process, I see myself
as assisting them in meeting their personal, literary, and publication
goals. The students I work with -- and I
work with writers at all levels, from absolute beginners to those who’ve
published quite a bit -- have a true commitment to the writing process. They are passionate about their writing,
perceive revision as a challenge to take up with joy and are unafraid to ask hard
questions (of themselves, and of me).
As she spoke about working with committed writers, she
presented an idea she thought I might consider:
If he were willing, would I interview one of her long-time students for Writing It Real? It would be interesting, Janice thought, to
have someone talk about the mentoring process from the point of view of the
mentee. I agreed that it would.
From my own training as a writer, I know that most writers have trusted
teachers, editors, colleagues or groups of selected others who coach the birth
of a new piece of writing. They help
with their sustained interest, their ability to articulate their comments and
their ability to respond to unfinished writing in a way that sparks the
writer. However, I also know that
receiving help on writing can be difficult. Students sometimes feel that
teachers are diverting them from the path they thought their writing was
taking, and sometimes it is hard to admit that others see something important
that the writers themselves hadn't noticed.
And often it is hard to make the writing do what the others' responses
indicate is necessary.
"Tell me a bit more about your student," I said, thinking, "A
mentee's insights could certainly help others get the most from anyone's
response to their work-in-progress, whether that is from group members or an
expert."
Janice told me she met David Beckman at the Board meeting of a writers'
conference:
He had already published one novel and a literary agent was
eager to see a new book. I worked with David for a few years on a collection of
short stories and now we’re working on his new novel. David definitely possesses the qualities I
look for in a writer I am working with, and he is very dedicated to his
writing.
I emailed David the next day and was happy to hear that he
would enjoy articulating his experience with Janice.
****
Sheila
Where you were
in your writing career when you decided to seek mentoring?
David
I’d worked with a writer’s group for over 10 years, and wrote plays and a
novel I was very happy with and which were successfully
produced/published. I also wrote the
first draft of my current novel-in-progress in that group.
Sheila
What had you learned that was valuable in those groups?
David
I learned how to create a character – with both inner and outer life, how
to make narration and dialogue work together and how to sustain a scene, moving
it forward in increments. Most of all, I learned how to keep all the strands of
a story going including sustaining a mood, not dropping a character or theme,
filling in details so the reader sees and feels the story’s forward
momentum. The novel that I was writing
at the time, Under
Pegasus, follows Jack, a successful advertising man who discovers that his
ex-wife, Emily, is a homeless woman living in Grand Central Terminal, and that
they have a daughter he never knew about.
I was better at showing the contrasting external conditions of the
characters’ lives than their evolving inner states. Jack decides he has to go into the bowels of
Grand Central to get Emily safely out. I
got very carried away with creating the dank, dark, alien world below the Terminal,
but had to learn to see it through Jack’s eyes . . . his growing anxiety
layered over a guilt about his success in the face of what had happened to
Emily. I had to struggle to get the
right balance.
Sheila
Once you had all that under your belt, what were you seeking in your
individual work with Janice?
David
I thought that going one-on-one with a teacher, whose full attention I
could get during our sessions, could lead to a different kind of growth for me
. . . one more grounded in detail and revision.
Sheila
Can you address the way you got that attention to detail and how it helped
the growth of the story?
David
Janice is very specific in her teaching, taking a page or paragraph a part
if need be, showing where more detail is needed or, conversely, where the
writing may be redundant. For example,
in a short story we worked on, "The Last Errand," a man, Cal, returns to his
hometown upstate to visit an aged aunt in a nursing home. The nurse, Debbie, who greets him at the
door, is the younger sister of his high school girlfriend from 15 years
earlier. Debbie is aggressively flirtatious in a way he can’t respond to,
knowing it can’t go anywhere in that he’s married and doesn’t want an
involvement. But her value in the story
is that she becomes a vehicle by which he remembers details of his youth, and
the disappointment of his first love affair (with her sister). Janice insisted
on specific details about her – height, weight, hair color, uniform, how she
moved. The more specific I got about
her, the more powerful the scene became, in that Cal’s memories sharpen, as does his sadness
at the loss he feels about those early years.
The clearer she was drawn, the more poignant the scene became.
Sheila
What would you say are other high spots of having a mentor?
David
It forces the writer into the real world.
Another set of eyes seeing the work as it evolves is stimulating and
challenging, and leads to a higher level of writing.
Sheila
Can you offer an example – some before and some after – that might demonstrate
how the other set of eyes, a set from an experienced and successful writer,
helped?
David
Two good examples are in my current project, a novel called On Quaker Road, about the Underground
Railroad in North Carolina
in the 1830s. The main character, Addison Coffin, was an actual historical
character. This was giving me a lot of
difficulty, in that I was adhering religiously to facts of his life, which was
robbing me of the freedom to let my character evolve naturally. Janice had the
experience to present me with a solution: change the name of the character,
free myself of the historical record, and write a book "based
loosely" on an actual life. It
never would have occurred to me to do this, and it’s made a huge
difference. Now I can operate like a
fiction writer – letting the story I want to tell be primary, letting the
characters surprise me and take turns I didn’t foresee. Suddenly the material is coming alive for me.
Another example is in Addison’s (I still call
him this for now) inner life. He is a
Quaker, raised in a peaceful tradition, but doing very dangerous work of
helping runaway slaves. Violent men with
guns oppose him in this, and a part of him (he’s only 17) wishes to fight fire
with fire even though he has been schooled in the opposite way of being. Also, his own father was murdered in the
course of this same work, and from time to time Addison
wants revenge on the unknown killer. This is his inner struggle – deciding what
his values are. I have a tendency to
drop this struggle and write long passages that are not dramatized or
revisited. Janice works hard to bring me
back to Addison’s inner life – reminding me
that this, in essence, is the story I’m telling. This is really invaluable, and makes the book
possible.
Sheila
How is being mentored different than the help you get in writing groups?
David
It’s more personal and intense. In a
group you can "hide," but going one-on-one with a mentor you
can’t.
Sheila
Can you offer an example of how a group member can "hide." Why
does one hide in a group? What does it feel like not to be able to hide?
David
There was a writer in my group who was a little lazy and also seemed very
insecure. He often came unprepared, and
probably didn’t want people to know it.
And even when he was prepared, he admitted he wanted to put off the
moment when he shared his writing. So
when another writer was getting input, he would provide it at great
length. His comments were good, but you
had the feeling he was watching the clock, trying to run it out so the group
would end before his time came. It
became a kind of a joke after awhile. I
think he did this for the obvious reason – it is easier to comment on another
writer’s problems than confront one’s own.
I think that for him it would be scary not to have the cover to run to, and I
don’t know if he has the ego strength to go one-on-one. I hope so, for his sake.
Sheila
Are there any dangers you see in the process? How do you avoid them?
David
It’s possible to give the mentor too much power – to hand over ultimate
responsibility for the work. Whether
it’s a small decision about a word or a line, or a major issue like plot
direction, character development or theme, ultimately the writer has to stand
behind it and own it.
Sheila
Again, can you show us how this worked for you in a mentoring relationship,
with an example of almost "giving in" but not, and engaging in a new
way with your mentor?
David
It might be a word choice, or a line that I want to keep but Janice feels
is wrong, or not necessary. Over two or
three drafts, Janice will continue noting it, and then finally say, "This
is the last time I’ll underscore this – if you really feel strongly, keep
it." I have to do a gut-check, to
see how badly I want to keep it and proceed accordingly. At that point, if I choose to go against her
advice, I know that I’m in love with the word or line in question. But she has forced me to think very hard
about it, and that is a gift.
Sheila
Have you ever found that your insistence on keeping a word or phrase was
associated with some other words or ideas that you hadn't yet gotten into the
work and thus by keeping the language you actually surprised yourself and
Janice with more or different material?
David
Actually, there’s just such an issue Janice and I are dealing with right
now. My novel’s main character, Addison Coffin, has an uncle, Levi, an
experienced Quaker and conductor on the Underground Railroad. Levi is a bit of a stiff – humorless and
rigid. In one scene, he wants Addison to perform an errand regarding a potential
run-away slave, but is little coy in the way that he goes about it. He withholds a key piece of information. This
is a touch that I like because it makes a good chapter ending. Janice rightly
points out that coyness is not part of Levi’s character, and that I either have
to drop it, or develop it in other scenes so Levi is consistent. So I know that to keep the chapter ending I
want, I have to earn it the sense of developing a character further.
Sheila
How else do you make the best use of having a mentor?
David
First, I try to write at the very highest level I’m capable of for each
meeting, knowing that working with Janice will then take me even higher – so I
can exceed myself. Then I try to make
every moment count when we meet, and I make sure I completely understand the
input I’m getting. Lastly, a few days
after of our meeting, I try to think through everything that happened so I can
assess it calmly and objectively, keeping what works for me (which, so far, is
over 90% of the input – a testimony to Janice.)
Sheila
How do you make every moment count and make sure you completely understand
what Janice is suggesting?
David
For me it’s a question of being honest with myself and my mentor: not pretending to understand when I really
don’t; giving myself permission to revert to the position of student: I may
know less than I think I do; letting someone else be the authority and not
getting into a knee-jerk defense of my work. It feels like loss of control, and
I guess it is, but for a purpose – to hear, think, grow.
Sheila
I think that another example would help me understand more about your
process in using a mentor. What are you able to ask for with a mentor and not
with a writing group?
David
It means going over a point as many times as necessary until it’s very
clear – until you know for sure what the issue is and what the mentor is
saying. That can take time. It can be
done in a group situation too, but you can end up feeling as if you’re taking
too much time, depriving others. Or, and
this is subtler, you may pretend you understand something because you’re
embarrassed to admit in front of peers that you actually don’t get it. For me, this doesn’t happen in a one-on-one
dynamic.
Sheila
On the issue of time, I can't help but think about money. Many people are very reluctant to work with a
mentor because the investment in money seems high, especially when the book
might not sell. What would you advise those who are dedicated to their writing
and worry about the cost of getting a book finished and to market?
David
Those are real concerns, for sure. I
think you have to look at it like this:
you’re getting an education and that costs money. I doubt that anyone goes to school expecting
their first job to pay all their education expenses. Similarly, I wouldn’t tie
the expenditure literally to what money you might make from the project you’re
working on (especially these days when selling a project is so difficult).
That’s way too much pressure. Rather,
ask yourself, "Am I growing as a writer? Is my work improving? Will what
I’m learning carry over to the next project, and the next? And, am I enjoying
the process?" If you can answer
"yes" to these questions, your money is well spent.
****
Once we get serious about working with response to our
writing, we may choose to hire a mentor, join a writing group, or experiment
with new classes. We may rotate,
choosing among these options.
Sometimes, because of the stage of the writing or time factors, a writer finds
that hiring an expert to study with one-on-one proves motivating and
worthwhile. Sometimes a group of people
willing to offer response is all that a writer needs to get a completed
manuscript onto an agent's desk. Here
are some ways to find groups and mentors, classes and workshops:
1. If you have never attended a writing
class, seek out information about classes that you may take advantage of. Many community colleges, universities and
community centers offer ongoing non-credit classes in writing. In addition, look for writers' conferences in
your area or select conferences in other parts of the country that you might be
able to attend during vacation time (the Shaw Guides on line is one place to
find them as are select issues of Writer's
Digest Magazine, Poets and Writers,
and The Associated Writing Program's
Chronicle).
At all conferences and classes you attend, get contact information from your
classmates. You can ask instructors to make contact sheets and distribute them.
This way, you can call others you have enjoyed working with to form an ongoing
group, by mail, email or in person. If
you interested in one-on-one work and have enjoyed working with a particular
writer (or editor), ask if that person takes private students and how they work
over distance.
2. Ask your librarian or bookstore
manager about writing groups that meet in the library or the store.
3. One person I know, Barbara Caplan-Bennett (barbara@barcapnett.com) is experimenting with starting a writing group referral service.
4. Another way to find out what writers
live near to you and take students is to note who teaches for-credit writing
courses at local colleges and universities.
Find out whether they are interested in mentoring and whether you feel
comfortable with their style by making appointments with them during their
office hours. Inquire about whether they
offer tutorials or facilitate writer's groups.
You can also watch for readings by local writers at bookstores and other venues
in your town. You can make appointments to talk with people at your local arts
council to ask them if they can tell you about writers who mentor. Write to
these writers care of their publishers.
Go to your library and read the Poets
and Writer's Directory to see if any of the writers in your area are
listed. Use the contact information
provided if they are.
At writers' conferences, find out if those doing manuscript conferences take on
private students who work by mail or phone.
5. Look up writers you admire on the
Internet. They most probably have a website and that site might discuss their
willingness to take on students and their fees.
6. You can also read ads in writing magazines--but be careful in contracting
with the writers. Ask for references and
a client list. . . .
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