Calling creative writers of fiction, memoir, and essays. I’m teaching a 4 week, virtual workshop beginning Tues. Sept. 10, 7-8pm EST.
Each week, we’ll dive into the essential elements of great storytelling and explore ways to increase narrative power through a particular aspect of craft such as: sensory description, attention to detail, point-of-view, and economy of language.
Workshops are interactive and led through a guided slide presentation. Participants will have the chance to ask questions and share prompt responses throughout the hour. Each class will end with a weekly writing challenge.
Resources and additional readings related to the workshop theme will be offered.
After attending all 4 weeks, you may submit up to 2 pages of prose afterwards to receive an individual written critique.
If you are an aspiring writer, I invite you to spend your lunch hour Monday, Jan 29 via Zoom for a 30 min writing workshop. 12 PM EST.
This monthly workshop is offered free of charge throughThe Writers‘ Room of Boston, a shared writing space in downtown Boston for writers of all levels and genres. (Donations to the WROB appreciated!)
Photo Credit: Margery Gans
The WROB is a nonprofit and also offers fellowships, virtual memberships, readings, author interviews, and workshops online and in-person .
Each month we’ll dive into the essential elements of great storytelling. Whether fiction or essay or poetry, we will explore ways to increase narrative power through a particular aspect of craft.
Workshops are led through a guided slide presentation. Participants will have the chance to ask questions and share prompt responses. We’ll end with a monthly writing challenge.
Writers’ Room of Boston memberscan email me 2 pages of their writing for detailed feedback.
Writing can be a lonely business. You spend hours in your head, talking to yourself, hanging out with imaginary people.
You sit at a desk trying to spin chaos into order.
Some days, the jumble of words magically align, like a string of pearls to polish and present.
But where these words land, who sees them, and how they are received is not always apparent.
That’s why it is so gratifying to hear from a reader–whether in-person, through email, or online comment. (I occasionally get a phone call but only from those I know personally.)
Many of you prefer communicating via the Contact Evelyn page rather than leaving a public comment. Some readers ask for writing advice.
Through my website, I’ve heard from men I once dated and friends from years back. Occasionally, I get a creepy letter or comment. That’s when the BLOCK option comes in handy.
My blog stats range far and near: Israel, India, Denmark, New Zealand, Romania. I hear from kindred spirits across the country. I feel fortunate to have met, in Real Life, two of my blog readers and was enriched by the experience.
My July 2022 post Is It Ever Too Late To Find Love? generated a lot of mail. (Including one marriage proposal!) You had lots to say on this topic and wanted to share your tales of both woe and joy in love.
Because I write frequently about grief, I receive letters from readers sharing their personal loss. These are the hardest letters to read, but also the ones that most touch my heart.
A distraught woman who had just lost a close family member in a fiery car crash wrote to me a couple months ago. She read an essay I’d recently published in Chicken Soup for the Soul. Her letter was detailed, heartfelt, and, I admit, triggering for me.
Still, I took the time to answer the best I could, knowing that she was in the hardest part of her grief journey.
A.M Zilberman
Ten years ago, I published an essay in Tablet Magazine about feeling ambivalent toward my 20 year old daughter’s impending marriage. This story continues to circulate, probably around wedding season, and I receive emails from mothers and fathers in a similar predicament. Fortunately, I have gained wisdom since then to share, along with a happy ending.
I receive fewer letters about my short fiction, though some readers have questioned whether I was writing about them. Answer: No.
“I’m the only Jewish girl in my school. Reading your book made me feel less alone. Getting to know Talia and her friends meant so much to me. I loved the way you showed how they were religious but also regular girls who get into fights and mess up like everyone else...”
Whether a debut or seasoned author, such personal letters often mean more to the writer than a book review or promotional tweet (which, of course, are also appreciated!)
I like to pay the kudos forward.
After reading a book or story that impacted me, I will take a moment to find the author’s contact info and let him/her know. This practice has led to enjoyable correspondence for me as well.
We creative souls write for many reasons: to make sense of the world, understand ourselves, explore obsessions, persuade, provoke, illuminate, entertain, and inspire.
One of the cardinal rules of fiction writing is: do not use coincidence to solve a a character’s problem.
When coincidence is used in this way, readers feel manipulated–(which writers do all the time. The point is for the reader not to notice.)
Used cleverly, however, coincidence in fiction can set off a chain of events and deepen the meaning of the story.
But what about in real life? Do coincidences have meaning?
The answer depends somewhat on your life outlook. Do you see the universe as a series of random events with no inherent connection? Do you seek scientific explanations for improbable events?
Or, do you believe some things are fated ? Maybe you subscribe to the notion that “everything happens for a reason”? Perhaps you see Divine intervention in some coincidences.
You run into your former lover in a city you both have never been ten years after your parting with no contact in between. Each of you say you were thinking of the other in the past month.
Psychologist Carl Jung called these kind of events “synchronicities”, surprising juxtapositions that scientific rationale can’t explain. The word synchronicity means “together in time” and suggests an underlying order to our reality. A connection between everyone and every living thing.
Jung saw synchronicities as a tool toward personal growth and meaning-making.
Just as we can derive meaning from reading a novel we know isn’t real, I think life’s coincidences can offer meaning, as well. Synchronicities evoke wonder and amazement. They remind us of life’s mystery.
The stranger or more improbable the coincidence, the greater our astonishment.
A common category of coincidences is finding an uncanny connection with a person you meet.
On a recent flight from Boston to Chicago, the woman sitting beside me, to whom I hadn’t said a word the whole flight, asked me if the American Airlines terminal was very busy.
“Oh, you’re not from Chicago?” I asked.
“No, just getting a connecting flight.”
I offered a few tips for navigating the O’Hare terminal. “Where are you headed?” I asked.
“Michigan.”
I smiled. “That’s where I grew up.”
What ensued was an enjoyable conversation with my seat mate.
We discovered that she and I had grown up in the same city just a mile apart. We’d both taken ice skating lessons at the same arena. We were both from large families and now had daughters the same age. We both had family still living in the area.
This in itself isn’t so incredible. What struck me is that the only reason we’d met is because I had taken the wrong seat.
The woman who was assigned 22F told me not to bother moving. She was fine with taking 22A across the aisle.
While I’m usually friendly and enjoy meeting new people, when on “airplane mode” I’m either white-knuckling through turbulence with music piping in my ears, or busy working on my laptop.
Add a mask to the above mix and you might call me an anti-social flyer.
Once inside the airport, Lauren and I each unmasked to reveal our smiles. Then we exchanged contact info.
And the lesson from this coincidence?
Talk to people! Some strangers turn out to be friends you’ve not yet met.
Writing can unearth truths you were afraid to face.
You think you know your subject or plot or characters, until the words begin to march to the beat of their own drum.
Sometimes you discover-perhaps from a trusted first reader–that your words fall flat. Or sound too familiar. Or leave too much white space.
Something is missing.
To write compelling stories, we have to mine our minds and hearts. This requires a certain boldness.
In drafting a story or essay, or even a blog post, you encounter numerous choices. Which turn will you take?
Some choices seem riskier than others.
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To write something meaningful that will resonate with readers, we must take risks. We must learn to write at the edge of what feels comfortable.
We have to ask: what am I holding back? Why?
What do I fear by writing the truth, or exploring this matter?
Whenever I’ve pushed myself in this way, the net outcome was rewarding, whether yielding a stronger piece, satisfaction in my work, or publication. Rewards also come from the reader letters I receive.
The same can be said for our lives. Our limiting beliefs keep us from taking risks. So do our fears.
Fear of what others might think.
Fear of being uncomfortable.
Fear of facing certain feelings we’d rather keep ten feet away.
So we remain in the status quo. Settle into a comfortable routine. Stay inside our safety net—a wholly understandable choice in today’s upside down world.
Yet when we remain there, we miss so much. We miss experiences we can’t even yet imagine.
Sometimes the risk we take is for another. To show up when we’d rather stay home. This, too, can bring unexpected rewards.
I decided that 2022 would be my year of saying “Yes”.
Yes to new opportunities, relationships, experiences, challenges, and writing projects. I chose this action not only to face fear but to feel more alive. To have fewer regrets, even if the outcome isn’t what I hoped for.
But there was another driving factor in this shift: my continued awareness of the brevity of life and the uncertainty of tomorrow in our broken world.
Bike_Maverick/iStock
I choose to say YES more often because next week, month, year, I may not have this choice.
A most recent and life-changing Yes was traveling solo from Boston to Lake Atitlan, Guatemala for an 8 day writing retreat. In deciding whether or not to embark on such a trip–my first outside North America–I found several excuses to say No Not Now. (It helps to have a few cheerleaders on your side.)
Stay tuned for the full story…which I wasn’t sure I’d live to tell!
EVELYN KRIEGER 