coreKnell

Now we arrive at the heart of the matter. What did I learn while attending VPXIII? It’s been over a week now since I left the Mysterious Island, and I’m still parsing. I can certainly reinforce the opinions of others that the experience was nothing short of transformative. Like many transformations, however, it came at a price. Probably the biggest surprise of the week was, as much as I had mentally prepared for tough love, I was nowhere near as adept at coping as I had convinced myself.

I started the week off with a roar as Monday was loaded with both my first one-on-one and a trip to the hotseat in our first breakout group. Following a relatively smooth and amenable first session with another classmate in our small group, I stepped up to plate and received a thorough drubbing. I wrote as fast as I could but could barely keep up with the witticisms: the plot was like watching bad reality television, the characters were thoroughly unlikeable, the exposition mirrored the style of a Wikipedia entry, technical details were wrong, it was too slow to get off the ground, and… well, you get the picture. There were a few compliments as well, but by the time we were through pretty much every element of the story had been identified as a weakness and I was advised to start from scratch rather than try and revise it. Ouch, ouch, ouch.

I spent the rest of the day in a bit of a daze as I tried to make it all fit in my head. It was quite a bit like jumping up and down on an overstuffed suitcase that won’t latch properly. At one point I was questioning why I had been selected to come and where I would even go from there. I must have had the look of a dead man walking because other members of my breakout group were quick to offer hugs and support when I approached. For most of that first working day, VP had become rough sledding indeed.

But here’s the thing: the critters were right. Spot on, in fact. And those critiques were what I needed to hear. I’ve always been over-sensitive about criticism, and Monday showed me just how far I have to go. It’s a tough skill, detaching from something as personal as one’s own writing. But it’s a necessary skill, and one that can be learned. I realize that these people were not being malicious; in fact, they have a vested interested in making sure I don’t fail. And I am nothing if not a quick study.

Fortunately, a few swigs of bourbon and a good night’s sleep restored my perspective. There’s just too much creative energy and enthusiastic participation in a week at VP to spend much time crying in your Maker’s Mark. I regained my footing following some extremely helpful one-on-one sessions and the interspersed lectures. Plus I somewhat redeemed myself with my writing assignment for the week — unfinished though it may be — which resulted in some compliments and discussion of further development. The important lesson — easy to relate, not as easy to take to heart — is that one story does not represent who you are as a writer. And, if you’re doing it right, creation is a painful process.

I could go on and on about other lessons learned from classmates and instructors alike, but others have covered much of that as well I ever could. The bottom line? I owe all of these incredibly talented people a debt of gratitude, and hope I also contributed something as well.

So now what? I’ve shelved that original story for awhile and intend to let it percolate indefinitely, or at least until I receive an epiphany. I’m knee deep in several other stories, exploring storytelling that more naturally plays to my strengths as a writer. And I’m happily following the works of my fellow squadron members as the Fighting XIIIth go out into the world. Thanks, VP, for a singular and wholly inspiring week.

I have a list of helpful hints, but I’ll save that for the next — and final — post.