Glen Workshop (toes curled over the precipice)
June 20, 2011 
Hi everyone --
I'm back from my week writing workshop with Scott Russell Sanders at the Glen Workshop East -- which also happened to be held at my old alma mater, Mount Holyoke College.
I haven't been back on campus in 15 years (at least) and wandering around (trying doors, walking the hallways), I found myself thinking about people and events I haven't thought about in so, so long: dances where guys outnumbered women 3 to 1 (and MHC is a women's college), a melancholic art student I admired but wasn't able to get to know (and how I still wish I had taken a sculpture class), a woman who knitted gorgeous aran sweaters as she manned the front desk at Prospect Hall.
This last week, I spent several hours sitting in one of the adirondack chairs in front of an old woolly tree that was right outside my room in Wilder Hall. I loved that tree. It kept me company thru January term, and all thru the spring when I'd changed my history thesis from 20c American History to Colonial History and had to write the thing in half the available time. The security lights cast a shadow of its leaves directly into my room, and when the wind blew those shadows jumped about the walls with the playfulness of a kitten.
And the workshop? Wonderful. Stunning really. I'm overwhelmed and I feel like I've been gone a month instead of a week. I'm not kidding -- I actually somehow expected the garden to be overgrown, to have missed the 4th of July completely, and to have only one more month until fall rolled around. It was hot in enough in Chicago when I stepped off the Amtrak for it to be August.
I did it! I made friends. Or perhaps I should say: it was a most welcoming group. The people in my workshop made it easy to get to know them. I'm smiling to think of them right now. (Photos are of some of the folks in my group.)
Right now, I'm listening to one of the other student's CDs. We had a singer-songwriter in our group!( Justin McRoberts, Deconstruction) And guess what? Justin played a song for us. I felt sorry for the poets workshopping next door, and proud of the fact that he was ours.
Okay... I wish I could be coherent about this workshop, but I'm still processing. Here's a few things I'm thinking about:
• Scott Russell Sanders is an amazing teacher and workshop leader. He's got an eye for structure, an ability to explain things clearly and to draw out the larger implications and connections from whatever piece we were workshopping. He also doesn't say anything he doesn't mean -- he's a considered speaker. And this is on top of being kind, gentle, and one of the most generous teachers I've ever met, especially in terms of his time: He kept himself available for questions and conversation at every meal, did an extra Q&A session for us, and went to all of the other teacher's presentations. Besides learning much as a student, I also learned a lot about the kind of teacher I want to be if I'm asked to teach. So if you have a chance to take a workshop with him, do it. I recommend it unconditionally.
• I'm also mulling the stories the other students told in their writing -- there was a lot of risk-taking. I enjoyed getting to know everyone. I liked these people.
• A word about me and a "Christian" writing conference: I'm going to admit that I am hesitant about "Christian" arts things. I've never felt that I quite fit in that world. I don't write "Christian" stuff. My books aren't about Moses, or about Noah's ark. People don't get "saved " at the end. My characters are broken people (like I am, like we all are). Personally, I often feel that I don't clean up well enough for this crowd, and I don't want to be judged for it (not that I know I have been, but I'm afraid of it). Sometimes you end up judging people out of fear of being judged, and so I've been trying to step back into this community, seeing how it goes. I have to say that my fears were entirely unfounded with this Image/Glen Workshop crowd. This was a group where I could let myself be. (If you Glen Workshop folks are reading this -- thank you!)
• Finally, this workshop was important to me because I'm at a place in my writing life where I feel that I need to stretch myself a bit. I've been writing kid lit for a long time, and I'd like to write something else in addition to the kid lit. I am not saying that writing for kids isn't hard work -- certainly not that if you grow up as a writer you stop writing for children. (Hate that when people assume this.) But what I'm thinking (and feeling) is that it's probably not entirely healthy for me to always be working on the same sort of project over and over and over. So for the past year, I've been thinking about writing some essays from my life, writing some poetry, breaking out of my box for a little while. Anyway, something new happened at this workshop. I came away with 3 poems started, a fish monologue (yes, you read that right), three or four essay ideas, and a clear idea of the order in which I'll work. Unbelievable.
Professor Corinne DemasOne of the things that helped a lot was getting a chance to talk to my writing professor from Mount Holyoke, Corinne Demas. She took time out from her schedule to meet with me. We talked about a lot of stuff (so helpful), but then she asked me if I wrote poetry, remembering that I might have written poetry all those years ago. How in the world did she remember? She was right. I had written poetry. Then she said that there were moments that can only be captured by a poem, and if you don't take the time to make a poem, the moments are lost.
As soon as she said it, I knew what she meant. I remembered letting those moments slip by.
So much to think about...
By the way, Phil read my book manuscript while I was gone, ONE CAME HOME, and said it looks good. Tomorrow we talk about it. Then I'm going to finish it up and ship it off to my agent and Knopf. So good to be free of it during this workshop.
Anyway, I'm excited about what might be next for me. Something is going to change. I am on the precipice. I feel my toes curled around the edge.
What's up with you?
Amy
P.S. Thank you, Glen folk!
Reader Comments (4)
Thank YOU, Amy, for sharing your work and your sparkly self with us! I can almost just see me on the other side of your dorm room wall. Enjoyed getting to know you and wish you great creativity and joy in your writing... you are a gem.
I need to hear, "I really, really, REALLY like this character!!!!" and "Interesting!!" Just the way you say it. It was a splendid week. Thanks so much, and I look forward to keeping up with your life via this blog.
Amy:
You are most welcome. We do work hard but the Glen would not be what it is without people like you (and the others you mention in the post) -- your desire, your talent, and your friendship make up that special Glen magic.
Thanks everyone! Let's keep in touch -- I'd like that! And thanks Greg for making a good place for people to explore both our artistic life and our faith. I loved it!