Workshoppers and Readers - Why You Need Both

I am a BIG fan of workshopping - giving and getting feedback is the quickest way to develop as a writer, in my opinion. But it shouldn't be used as the only method of working on a novel.

The problem is that workshops, by their nature, can only look at small pieces at a time - a chapter or maybe two would be the maximum. You can (and should) edit each section thoroughly but be careful of losing sight of the bigger picture. The question 'Does the story work?' can only be answered by looking at the novel as a whole, not in little sections.

So, you need to find some people who will be readers. It's a good idea if they can be different to your workshoppers so they can come to the story fresh. It's good if they're writers too, but they don't have to be, so long as they read your genre. That's essential. Ask them about the story, ask them about how the characters are coming across, ask them about pace. Don't ask them to do a line edit - leave that for your workshop group.

I know several people who have spent years workshopping their novels, when IMO they'd be better off sending it out to readers. I understand why people do this - no one wants to ask a friend (let alone a book doctor) to commit several hours of their time to reading your novel until it's as perfect as you can possibly make it - but at some point it has to be done.

The perfect pattern would be: workshop until the first draft is done. Then send it out to readers, to check the story as whole works. Then back to workshopping to refine the text. Repeat as required.

Think of your editing as beautiful embroidery on a dress. There's little point in doing the finest work if the fabric of the dress is poor, or the style is wrong. Getting that right is what a reader will help you to do, and the workshop will help with the embroidery.

The Danger of Chunks

When I was on my MA we used to workshop our pieces once a week in a group. It was a brilliant way to learn, and I've carried on with workshopping both my own work and student work ever since. There's no doubt in my mind that workshopping is excellent, a fast track to developing as a writer. But sometimes I worry about the effect it has on writing.

The problem is that you only see work in chunks. On the MA I think I remember correctly that we could submit up to 2000 words - that's about eight pages - which is about the length of a short story or a scene or two from a novel. When I'm workshopping in class, the length has to be kept under 800 words. You can get good feedback from that, and I've seen writing improve dramatically as a result, but the one thing you can't get is a sense of the story or novel as a whole.

Seeing a novel in chunks, even a short story in two bites, means that feedback on overall structure and pace is in short supply. Good writing comes to the fore, and editing skills get developed but I wonder if the chunk method may be responsible for the number of writers who get praised for their writing in class and are then disappointed when they send out to agents. I don't know - it's just an idea, and I certainly won't stop workshopping. But if I'm right, then it would pay to get at least one opinion on the piece as a whole before sending out.

Workshop Woes

Your palms are hot and sweaty, your mouth is dry. The blood pounds in your ears so hard you can’t hear what anyone is saying. You think you might be having a heart attack. Vaguely, through misty eyes, you see the workshop leader nod in your direction and mouth your name. Yup, it’s your turn to read.

Sharing work is a bit like placing your precious baby on the ground and inviting all and sundry to bash its little brains out. But it has to be done because reading out work in a workshop is one of the quickest ways to improve. Firstly, what seemed all right when it was just you and your laptop now issues forth in leaden dollops. Did I really write this, you think. It’s dreadful. And I’ve just shifted Point of View again. Having an audience sharpens your senses; you hear what they're hearing, not how it sounds in your head. Secondly, there is feedback, ideally specific feedback. You’ll never improve if all the feedback you get is of the ‘that’s lovely’ kind. Ask why it’s lovely – is it the language, the characterisation, the detail…? Stuck with a bunch of ‘it’s lovely’ bleaters, you've got to ask questions as relentlessly as Jeremy Paxman interviewing a dodgy politician: which character did you like best? Could you imagine the setting? What mood did it create for you?

Then, having read, you can relax and listen to someone else. And, surprise surprise, it’s much easier to learn from critiquing another’s work than it is to learn from your own. Again, be as specific as you can. Is the third paragraph too long, could it be sharpened, are there too many adjectives? Is the structure right – does the piece open in the right place, does the ending work? Is the dialogue being used effectively or is it simply waffle? Practice being an editor.

We start as readers first, then become writers. Somewhere along the line we must also learn to be editors, and to work with editors. Workshopping shortcuts the process. The only problem is, somehow it’s always your favourite, most beloved baby that gets the worst battering. And that's really hard. But hey - welcome to the life of a writer.