Workshop Reflection

I have done a workshop once before. It was senior year of high school, I think, in my writing class. We workshopped short stories.

God damn, that workshop was not even real.

I learned almost nothing from that workshop. No one had any criticisms. No one had any thoughts about form, sentence structure, or grammar (the easiest thing to have thoughts about). If anyone did say anything, it was probably along the lines of "It was good" or "I liked it." I think Mr. McQueary probably shared my frustration with the class.

This workshop was the polar opposite, and it's probably because everyone who is in the class wants to be there, has a vested interest in creative writing, and was not forced to sign up for the class. I received criticism, praise, and analysis from my peers that helped me think of revisions and improvements before the workshop was even over. If anyone was critical, they were not malicious. If anyone was congratulatory, they were sincere.

Additionally, by being forced to read my poem in front of others, any delusions about its quality had to be swept away. And that's good; delusions about its quality had to be swept away. And that's good; delusions about the quality of your writing are bad. I think when poems are workshopped, it forces the author to humble him/herself and come down to earth. Someone who thought their poem was deep and meaningful might realize in a workshop that it was actually just hoity toity bullshit.

Not that anyone's poem was like that...