As a writing instructor, it is always interesting to me to talk with other writers who teach.  I enjoy hearing about the parts of the teaching process that excite them.  This past June, I had the opportunity to talk over breakfast with New York writer Janice Eidus.  She said:

When I guide writers in their creative process, I see myself as assisting them in meeting their personal, literary, and publication goals.  The students I work with — and I work with writers at all levels, from absolute beginners to those who’ve published quite a bit — have a true commitment to the writing process.  They are passionate about their writing, perceive revision as a challenge to take up with joy and are unafraid to ask hard questions (of themselves, and of me).

As she spoke about working with committed writers, she presented an idea she thought I might consider:  If he were willing, would I interview one of her long-time students for Writing It Real?  It would be interesting, Janice thought, to have someone talk about the mentoring process from the point of view of the mentee.  I agreed that it would.

From my own training as a writer, I know that most writers have trusted teachers, editors, colleagues or groups of selected others who coach the birth of a new piece of writing.  They help with their sustained interest, their ability to articulate their comments and their ability to respond to unfinished writing in a way that sparks the writer.  However, I also know that receiving help on writing can be difficult. Students sometimes feel that teachers are diverting them from the path they thought their writing was taking, and sometimes it is hard to admit that others see something important that the writers themselves hadn’t noticed.  And often it is hard to make the writing do what the others’ responses indicate is necessary.

“Tell me a bit more about your student,” I said, thinking, “A mentee’s insights could certainly help others get the most from anyone’s response to their work-in-progress, whether that is from group members or an expert.”

Janice told me she met David Beckman at the Board meeting of a writers’ conference:

He had already published one novel and a literary agent was eager to see a new book. I worked with David for a few years on a collection of short stories and now we’re working on his new novel.  David definitely possesses the qualities I look for in a writer I am working with, and he is very dedicated to his writing.

I emailed David the next day and was happy to hear that he would enjoy articulating his experience with Janice.

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Sheila
Where you were in your writing career when you decided to seek mentoring?

David
I’d worked with a writer’s group for over 10 years, and wrote plays and a novel I was very happy with and which were successfully produced/published.  I also wrote the first draft of my current novel-in-progress in that group.

Sheila
What had you learned that was valuable in those groups?

David
I learned how to create a character – with both inner and outer life, how to make narration and dialogue work together and how to sustain a scene, moving it forward in increments. Most of all, I learned how to keep all the strands of a story going including sustaining a mood, not dropping a character or theme, filling in details so the reader sees and feels the story’s forward momentum.   The novel that I was writing at the time, Under Pegasus, follows Jack, a successful advertising man who discovers that his ex-wife, Emily, is a homeless woman living in Grand Central Terminal, and that they have a daughter he never knew about.  I was better at showing the contrasting external conditions of the characters’ lives than their evolving inner states.  Jack decides he has to go into the bowels of Grand Central to get Emily safely out.  I got very carried away with creating the dank, dark, alien world below the Terminal, but had to learn to see it through Jack’s eyes . . . his growing anxiety layered over a guilt about his success in the face of what had happened to Emily.  I had to struggle to get the right balance.

Sheila
Once you had all that under your belt, what were you seeking in your individual work with Janice?

David
I thought that going one-on-one with a teacher, whose full attention I could get during our sessions, could lead to a different kind of growth for me . . . one more grounded in detail and revision.

Sheila
Can you address the way you got that attention to detail and how it helped the growth of the story?

David
Janice is very specific in her teaching, taking a page or paragraph a part if need be, showing where more detail is needed or, conversely, where the writing may be redundant.  For example, in a short story we worked on, “The Last Errand,” a man, Cal, returns to his hometown upstate to visit an aged aunt in a nursing home.  The nurse, Debbie, who greets him at the door, is the younger sister of his high school girlfriend from 15 years earlier. Debbie is aggressively flirtatious in a way he can’t respond to, knowing it can’t go anywhere in that he’s married and doesn’t want an involvement.  But her value in the story is that she becomes a vehicle by which he remembers details of his youth, and the disappointment of his first love affair (with her sister). Janice insisted on specific details about her – height, weight, hair color, uniform, how she moved.  The more specific I got about her, the more powerful the scene became, in that Cal’s memories sharpen, as does his sadness at the loss he feels about those early years.  The clearer she was drawn, the more poignant the scene became.

Sheila
What would you say are other high spots of having a mentor?

David
It forces the writer into the real world.  Another set of eyes seeing the work as it evolves is stimulating and challenging, and leads to a higher level of writing.

Sheila
Can you offer an example – some before and some after – that might demonstrate how the other set of eyes, a set from an experienced and successful writer, helped?

David
Two good examples are in my current project, a novel called On Quaker Road, about the Underground Railroad in North Carolina in the 1830s. The main character, Addison Coffin, was an actual historical character.  This was giving me a lot of difficulty, in that I was adhering religiously to facts of his life, which was robbing me of the freedom to let my character evolve naturally. Janice had the experience to present me with a solution: change the name of the character, free myself of the historical record, and write a book “based loosely” on an actual life.  It never would have occurred to me to do this, and it’s made a huge difference.  Now I can operate like a fiction writer – letting the story I want to tell be primary, letting the characters surprise me and take turns I didn’t foresee.  Suddenly the material is coming alive for me.

Another example is in Addison’s (I still call him this for now) inner life.  He is a Quaker, raised in a peaceful tradition, but doing very dangerous work of helping runaway slaves.  Violent men with guns oppose him in this, and a part of him (he’s only 17) wishes to fight fire with fire even though he has been schooled in the opposite way of being.  Also, his own father was murdered in the course of this same work, and from time to time Addison wants revenge on the unknown killer. This is his inner struggle – deciding what his values are.  I have a tendency to drop this struggle and write long passages that are not dramatized or revisited.  Janice works hard to bring me back to Addison’s inner life – reminding me that this, in essence, is the story I’m telling.  This is really invaluable, and makes the book possible.

Sheila
How is being mentored different than the help you get in writing groups?

David
It’s more personal and intense.  In a group you can “hide,” but going one-on-one with a mentor you can’t.

Sheila
Can you offer an example of how a group member can “hide.” Why does one hide in a group? What does it feel like not to be able to hide?

David
There was a writer in my group who was a little lazy and also seemed very insecure.  He often came unprepared, and probably didn’t want people to know it.  And even when he was prepared, he admitted he wanted to put off the moment when he shared his writing.  So when another writer was getting input, he would provide it at great length.  His comments were good, but you had the feeling he was watching the clock, trying to run it out so the group would end before his time came.  It became a kind of a joke after awhile.  I think he did this for the obvious reason – it is easier to comment on another writer’s problems than confront one’s own.

I think that for him it would be scary not to have the cover to run to, and I don’t know if he has the ego strength to go one-on-one.  I hope so, for his sake.

Sheila
Are there any dangers you see in the process? How do you avoid them?

David
It’s possible to give the mentor too much power – to hand over ultimate responsibility for the work.  Whether it’s a small decision about a word or a line, or a major issue like plot direction, character development or theme, ultimately the writer has to stand behind it and own it.

Sheila
Again, can you show us how this worked for you in a mentoring relationship, with an example of almost “giving in” but not, and engaging in a new way with your mentor?

David
It might be a word choice, or a line that I want to keep but Janice feels is wrong, or not necessary.  Over two or three drafts, Janice will continue noting it, and then finally say, “This is the last time I’ll underscore this – if you really feel strongly, keep it.”  I have to do a gut-check, to see how badly I want to keep it and proceed accordingly.  At that point, if I choose to go against her advice, I know that I’m in love with the word or line in question.  But she has forced me to think very hard about it, and that is a gift.

Sheila
Have you ever found that your insistence on keeping a word or phrase was associated with some other words or ideas that you hadn’t yet gotten into the work and thus by keeping the language you actually surprised yourself and Janice with more or different material?

David
Actually, there’s just such an issue Janice and I are dealing with right now. My novel’s main character, Addison Coffin, has an uncle, Levi, an experienced Quaker and conductor on the Underground Railroad.  Levi is a bit of a stiff – humorless and rigid.  In one scene, he wants Addison to perform an errand regarding a potential run-away slave, but is little coy in the way that he goes about it.  He withholds a key piece of information. This is a touch that I like because it makes a good chapter ending. Janice rightly points out that coyness is not part of Levi’s character, and that I either have to drop it, or develop it in other scenes so Levi is consistent.  So I know that to keep the chapter ending I want, I have to earn it the sense of developing a character further.

Sheila
How else do you make the best use of having a mentor?

David
First, I try to write at the very highest level I’m capable of for each meeting, knowing that working with Janice will then take me even higher – so I can exceed myself.  Then I try to make every moment count when we meet, and I make sure I completely understand the input I’m getting.  Lastly, a few days after of our meeting, I try to think through everything that happened so I can assess it calmly and objectively, keeping what works for me (which, so far, is over 90% of the input – a testimony to Janice.)

Sheila
How do you make every moment count and make sure you completely understand what Janice is suggesting?

David
For me it’s a question of being honest with myself and my mentor:  not pretending to understand when I really don’t; giving myself permission to revert to the position of student: I may know less than I think I do; letting someone else be the authority and not getting into a knee-jerk defense of my work. It feels like loss of control, and I guess it is, but for a purpose – to hear, think, grow.

Sheila
I think that another example would help me understand more about your process in using a mentor. What are you able to ask for with a mentor and not with a writing group?

David
It means going over a point as many times as necessary until it’s very clear – until you know for sure what the issue is and what the mentor is saying. That can take time.  It can be done in a group situation too, but you can end up feeling as if you’re taking too much time, depriving others.  Or, and this is subtler, you may pretend you understand something because you’re embarrassed to admit in front of peers that you actually don’t get it.  For me, this doesn’t happen in a one-on-one dynamic.

Sheila
On the issue of time, I can’t help but think about money.  Many people are very reluctant to work with a mentor because the investment in money seems high, especially when the book might not sell. What would you advise those who are dedicated to their writing and worry about the cost of getting a book finished and to market?

David
Those are real concerns, for sure.  I think you have to look at it like this:  you’re getting an education and that costs money.  I doubt that anyone goes to school expecting their first job to pay all their education expenses. Similarly, I wouldn’t tie the expenditure literally to what money you might make from the project you’re working on (especially these days when selling a project is so difficult). That’s way too much pressure.  Rather, ask yourself, “Am I growing as a writer? Is my work improving? Will what I’m learning carry over to the next project, and the next? And, am I enjoying the process?”  If you can answer “yes” to these questions, your money is well spent.

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Once we get serious about working with response to our writing, we may choose to hire a mentor, join a writing group, or experiment with new classes.  We may rotate, choosing among these options.

Sometimes, because of the stage of the writing or time factors, a writer finds that hiring an expert to study with one-on-one proves motivating and worthwhile.  Sometimes a group of people willing to offer response is all that a writer needs to get a completed manuscript onto an agent’s desk.  Here are some ways to find groups and mentors, classes and workshops:

1.  If you have never attended a writing class, seek out information about classes that you may take advantage of.  Many community colleges, universities and community centers offer ongoing non-credit classes in writing.  In addition, look for writers’ conferences in your area or select conferences in other parts of the country that you might be able to attend during vacation time (the Shaw Guides on line is one place to find them as are select issues of Writer’s Digest Magazine, Poets and Writers, and The Associated Writing Program’s Chronicle).

At all conferences and classes you attend, get contact information from your classmates. You can ask instructors to make contact sheets and distribute them. This way, you can call others you have enjoyed working with to form an ongoing group, by mail, email or in person.  If you interested in one-on-one work and have enjoyed working with a particular writer (or editor), ask if that person takes private students and how they work over distance.

2.  Ask your librarian or bookstore manager about writing groups that meet in the library or the store.

3.  One person I know, Barbara Caplan-Bennett (barbara@barcapnett.com) is experimenting with starting a writing group referral service.

4.  Another way to find out what writers live near to you and take students is to note who teaches for-credit writing courses at local colleges and universities.  Find out whether they are interested in mentoring and whether you feel comfortable with their style by making appointments with them during their office hours.  Inquire about whether they offer tutorials or facilitate writer’s groups.

You can also watch for readings by local writers at bookstores and other venues in your town. You can make appointments to talk with people at your local arts council to ask them if they can tell you about writers who mentor. Write to these writers care of their publishers.  Go to your library and read the Poets and Writer’s Directory to see if any of the writers in your area are listed.  Use the contact information provided if they are.

At writers’ conferences, find out if those doing manuscript conferences take on private students who work by mail or phone.

5.  Look up writers you admire on the Internet. They most probably have a website and that site might discuss their willingness to take on students and their fees.

6. You can also read ads in writing magazines–but be careful in contracting with the writers.  Ask for references and a client list.