The Workshop Response – Taos
The Memoir—Master Class
The Workshop Response is an attempt to describe the qualities of your
peer’s manuscript specifically, to say more than, "I like this," or "I think
this is just beautiful," which is no good, unless you can say why. At the
same time, your job is to help improve the piece, and this involves the
delicate, important task of constructive criticism. Your first thought must
always be: How can I encourage this person to help them make this piece better?
Especially because we are dealing with real stories about real lives, you must
always remember to be conscientious and constructive. I can’t say enough
about the importance of this. The first rule, always, is do no harm.
Whatever your comments, your goal is to encourage, to have the writer read your
comments and turn, excited, to the hard task of revision at hand. At the same
time, take a risk, say something that will help the author make their piece
better, but say it in a way that it can be received well.
The Workshop Response:
- What is the memoir’s situation, and what is its story? (You’ll understand
what I mean by these particular terms after you read Gornick’s essay THE
SITUATION AND THE STORY) Here are questions about focus that ask you,
in two or three sentences, to attempt to get at the essence of the work.
- What is the essay's limited persona? Is the persona limited enough?
How might the persona be more limited in the next draft?
- Why is this memoir being told now? In other words, how is
this problem still a dilemma for the author at the time of writing? How
is this problem still vexing, still thrashing around inside the author?
(If the author seems at peace now with this problem, there's no clear reason
why this is being told. If the author seems too much at peace (and
you don't buy it), perhaps this is because the resolution is over-simplified,
and the author hasn't yet embraced how this problem continues in the present.
- What basic orienting facts might be clarified or developed?
- Is there a "time-of-writing" voice in the draft that is struggling to make
sense of the past? How might this voice be rendered more fully?
What might this voice reflect on? (Lopate’s Retrospection & Reflection
speaks to this.)
- How does the beginning of the memoir create an "exchange of expectations"
between the author and the reader? Does the piece, as it evolves, meet
these expectations? How does it fail (in this draft) to meet those
expectations? How might it better meet these expectations in the next
draft? Do the expectations created by the beginning of the memoir need
to change? Does the beginning need to change?
- How is the memoir an exploration of change for the narrator? How
might this change be made more clear, more developed?
- What does the narrator want? What's in the way? Are the
obstacles formidable enough? How might they be made more formidable in
the next draft?
- Are the scenes rendered in this draft the most important scenes?
What needs to be dramatized still? What needs to be more dramatized?
- What questions do you have that the memoir does not yet answer? What
suggestions can you make that would move this story closer to what it really
wants to be about? What craft areas might be developed that would make
the draft stronger and more compelling? (A characterization more
complexly drawn; a scene written that's only suggested; a scene expanded; the
setting better described; an object or metaphor put to further use.)
Notice how, in this response, you're not being asked whether you "liked" the
memoir. You're not in the business of judging this. It's not done.
You're being asked to describe the formal qualities of the draft.
You're not being asked to "evaluate": you're not being asked to say whether the
memoir is good or bad. You're not being asked to decide
whether you would ever want to hand this memoir to someone else to read.
You're being asked to describe it as a system. Hopefully, what this does
for you is take the pressure off. At the same time, we also have to help
the author make their manuscript not just better, but publishable.
All too often, the author has a lot more in their head than is on the page, and
they think they've communicated something that they haven't yet. Help them
by telling them what you think it's about, by alerting them to what's missing,
and help them by speculating with them (but not prescribing) about the next
draft.
Good Luck!