Two More Letters to Those Who Attempted to Discourage Us as Writers
This week’s writings come to us via members Howard Tanzman and Julie Hayward-Trout. You will relate and you will chuckle after you’ve read them both, and who doesn’t need to feel affirmed and amused to balance the ship of authorship? Thank you both for submitting work. I hope additional members will be inspired to keep our month of writings on the topic of those who discourage us from writing. Who knows this topic better than those of us who are engaged in the writing life?
Please give a shout-out via our comment box at the end of the article this week and the one last week to members who tell it like it was (and unfortunately still is far too often).
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Howard Tanzman’s “Dear Writing Group”
Dear Workshop Group,
I was new to writing and joined this 15-person workshop group. Each week we would bring something we wrote to read to the group. It might be memoir, personal essay, fiction, or a poem. The group would provide feedback in what was considered a safe space. This allowed us to grow in our writing without worrying about being embarrassed. In time, camaraderie grew among the members, starting when we met in person and continuing even as we migrated to zoom.
One week I read a piece of flash fiction. It was the story of a failed love, written from the woman’s first-person point of view. I got challenged – what right did a man have to write a story from the female point-of-view? And several said, in harsh language, that I had totally failed to capture the way a woman would have thought and acted. It was not constructive feedback.
I left that group and joined another. At some point, I read the same story to that new workshop group. Both the men and women in the group enjoyed the piece and provided useful commentary. Just what a writer needs when experimenting, learning, and developing their voice.
Sincerely,
Howard
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Julie Hayward-Trout’s “Dear Pompous Dinner Party Man”
Dear Pompous Dinner Party Man,
Thank you so much for asking me what I like to do because, on the occasion when I feel safe enough to speak freely, I just so appreciate a quick verbal dart to the face especially when you aim for the eyes or chest area. Yes, of course, I have been warned never to speak of being a creative because one should understand you will immediately be judged, “Do you make any money at it? What’s your real job? Oh, honey why would you want that; all the good writers just want to kill themselves,” but, thankfully you asked something different, after giving my body the once over handsy-scan and, without hearing what I write you asked, “Do you write anything other than love stories,” while standing next to your wife as you smirked at me. I defensively said yes but should have said no confidently because, all my stories are about love at some point: love lost, love found, the love of curiosity, the very will to live is love, my friend.
I rummaged through my memory for a single story that did not include what you tried to accuse me of. It’s not like I’m writing romance novels, not that there is anything wrong with that, I just don’t care for your assumption solely based on the body I happen to be walking around in at present.
In the past when a passive-aggressive person like you made judgments about who I was, or what I should be, and I’d make self-deprecating jokes about how I was a wanna-be, hacking my way through short stories with an unsharpened pen-sickle, ha, ha, ha. So, really, I should thank you for giving me the opportunity to solidly say I am never going to apologize for writing about anything anymore, especially love.
It was so enlightening to have met such a very important, wealthy, vending machine mogul. What a true gift you are to this world I mean really what would we do without polysaturated prepackaged snacks anyway?
Regards,
Impressed