Outclassed
Last night, I recalled one of the main reasons I no longer update this blog.
It's because I don't think the world needs to hear from yet another person who wants to Be A Writer. I think I've talked before about the distinction between someone who writes and someone who just wants to Be A Writer, with visions in their head of their name on a book and a big party to celebrate the launch of their book, but no clear idea of what would be IN the book. I hate those people, and I hated that every time I posted in this blog I felt more like one.
Initially, when I was running a reading series and doing crazy stuff like reading at KGB, I thought I'd probably inspire myself to get some substantial work done if I knew I was accountable for it in a blog. All that really happened was the occasional "still not writing anything good" post, and the odd essay that five people a month stumbled upon while Googling for information about Bert McCracken's tattoos. (Two and a half years later, it's still my number one google hit. Clearly, I need to run into more celebrities.) So I went back to LiveJournal, where I felt like it was slightly more okay to blog three lines about what I had for breakfast since I didn't have any pretensions there that I was some sort of big-shot writer type who was actually writing for public eyes. (Which is very odd considering that LiveJournal is just as public a forum as anywhere else. You could probably find my LiveJournal page within ten minutes if you really wanted to.) And I shied away from any sort of insinuation that I was ever going to Be A Writer, which included not actually, well, writing.
I miss the process a little bit, though, and have been jonesing to at least start something big again. With that in mind, last night I attended two free sample classes sponsored by Gotham Writers' Workshop, on Sharon's invitation.
Honestly? It wasn't so bad. A bargain at twice the price, I'd say. The teachers were certainly better than the guy I had when I took novel-writing at the New School, and they did a couple of exercises that felt pretty good and made me want to work more.
But as is often the case with writing classes, an unreasonably high percentage of people in the class were of the "I want to Be A Writer" school. In fact, possibly the most egregious example of this that I've ever seen popped up during the Q&A for the Fiction Writing class.
"So if we take your class," he said in his best Brooklyn whisper, "at the end of it, does Gotham Writers' Workshop have agents with publishing house connections that will look at our stuff and help us get published?" His tone conveyed more than a little entitlement, and I got the sense that he wasn't going to bother with paying money for a class unless someone could guarantee that he would be handed a check for ten times that amount once he was done.
Sharon and I had to look straight ahead at the teacher and the blackboard, because if either of us turned to look at each other at that point, we both would have fallen out of our chairs with hysterical laughter, and we were trying to be nominally polite, or at least confine our snark of our fellow prospective students to written notes. The teacher, to her credit, was much nicer to this guy than either one of us would have been on our nicest day, telling him that no, Gotham Writers' Workshop is only about learning how to write, not how to become the next Dan Brown.
It happened again in the Screenwriting class. (Which, by the way, the teacher was excellent, but I'm pretty sure I never, ever want to write a screenplay.) The instructor mentioned Juno screenwriter Diablo Cody, and a hand shot up right away. "How did Diablo Cody get noticed by Hollywood?" the girl asked. "Was that before or after she published her memoir?"
Everyone wants to Be A Writer, kids. Everyone wants the book party and the Oscar and the write-up in Publishers Weekly and the soft-focus black and white photo on the dust jacket. Writing, on the very superficial surface, looks like the ultimate way to make your living. You can sit at home in your pajamas making up stories and sometimes you can go to Barnes and Noble and people will wait in line for your autograph. Sounds good to me, too! If I could take a class that would give me that life at the end of it, I'd sign up in a heartbeat.
I know, however, that such a class does not exist. Unfortunately, the majority of people who sign up for writing classes do not. Thus, most useful things you could learn in a writing class are superceded by all of the idiotic pipe dreams of would-be Tom Clancys who spend more time daydreaming about how they're going to spend the earnings from their bestseller than they do actually, you know, writing it.
It's taken me a while to realize this, but when it comes to writing, I don't think there's anything I don't know how to do that can be learned in a class. That's the main lesson I need to take away from the various classes I've tried. That and the fact that the only writing worth reading has come from people who were writing because they had something to say, and not because they wanted to Be Writers.
From now on, I'm going to try to find things to say in this blog. I will keep the talk of writing to a minimum until I have actually written something (that is, not a blog entry).
And if you are still thinking of taking a writing class somewhere in hopes that it will help you to Be A Writer, I suggest stopping by this website. It should have some good pointers for you.
It's because I don't think the world needs to hear from yet another person who wants to Be A Writer. I think I've talked before about the distinction between someone who writes and someone who just wants to Be A Writer, with visions in their head of their name on a book and a big party to celebrate the launch of their book, but no clear idea of what would be IN the book. I hate those people, and I hated that every time I posted in this blog I felt more like one.
Initially, when I was running a reading series and doing crazy stuff like reading at KGB, I thought I'd probably inspire myself to get some substantial work done if I knew I was accountable for it in a blog. All that really happened was the occasional "still not writing anything good" post, and the odd essay that five people a month stumbled upon while Googling for information about Bert McCracken's tattoos. (Two and a half years later, it's still my number one google hit. Clearly, I need to run into more celebrities.) So I went back to LiveJournal, where I felt like it was slightly more okay to blog three lines about what I had for breakfast since I didn't have any pretensions there that I was some sort of big-shot writer type who was actually writing for public eyes. (Which is very odd considering that LiveJournal is just as public a forum as anywhere else. You could probably find my LiveJournal page within ten minutes if you really wanted to.) And I shied away from any sort of insinuation that I was ever going to Be A Writer, which included not actually, well, writing.
I miss the process a little bit, though, and have been jonesing to at least start something big again. With that in mind, last night I attended two free sample classes sponsored by Gotham Writers' Workshop, on Sharon's invitation.
Honestly? It wasn't so bad. A bargain at twice the price, I'd say. The teachers were certainly better than the guy I had when I took novel-writing at the New School, and they did a couple of exercises that felt pretty good and made me want to work more.
But as is often the case with writing classes, an unreasonably high percentage of people in the class were of the "I want to Be A Writer" school. In fact, possibly the most egregious example of this that I've ever seen popped up during the Q&A for the Fiction Writing class.
"So if we take your class," he said in his best Brooklyn whisper, "at the end of it, does Gotham Writers' Workshop have agents with publishing house connections that will look at our stuff and help us get published?" His tone conveyed more than a little entitlement, and I got the sense that he wasn't going to bother with paying money for a class unless someone could guarantee that he would be handed a check for ten times that amount once he was done.
Sharon and I had to look straight ahead at the teacher and the blackboard, because if either of us turned to look at each other at that point, we both would have fallen out of our chairs with hysterical laughter, and we were trying to be nominally polite, or at least confine our snark of our fellow prospective students to written notes. The teacher, to her credit, was much nicer to this guy than either one of us would have been on our nicest day, telling him that no, Gotham Writers' Workshop is only about learning how to write, not how to become the next Dan Brown.
It happened again in the Screenwriting class. (Which, by the way, the teacher was excellent, but I'm pretty sure I never, ever want to write a screenplay.) The instructor mentioned Juno screenwriter Diablo Cody, and a hand shot up right away. "How did Diablo Cody get noticed by Hollywood?" the girl asked. "Was that before or after she published her memoir?"
Everyone wants to Be A Writer, kids. Everyone wants the book party and the Oscar and the write-up in Publishers Weekly and the soft-focus black and white photo on the dust jacket. Writing, on the very superficial surface, looks like the ultimate way to make your living. You can sit at home in your pajamas making up stories and sometimes you can go to Barnes and Noble and people will wait in line for your autograph. Sounds good to me, too! If I could take a class that would give me that life at the end of it, I'd sign up in a heartbeat.
I know, however, that such a class does not exist. Unfortunately, the majority of people who sign up for writing classes do not. Thus, most useful things you could learn in a writing class are superceded by all of the idiotic pipe dreams of would-be Tom Clancys who spend more time daydreaming about how they're going to spend the earnings from their bestseller than they do actually, you know, writing it.
It's taken me a while to realize this, but when it comes to writing, I don't think there's anything I don't know how to do that can be learned in a class. That's the main lesson I need to take away from the various classes I've tried. That and the fact that the only writing worth reading has come from people who were writing because they had something to say, and not because they wanted to Be Writers.
From now on, I'm going to try to find things to say in this blog. I will keep the talk of writing to a minimum until I have actually written something (that is, not a blog entry).
And if you are still thinking of taking a writing class somewhere in hopes that it will help you to Be A Writer, I suggest stopping by this website. It should have some good pointers for you.
posted by Jess at 4/10/2008 01:11:00 PM
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