Why the Workshop Method Works (and why it's outdated)
- S. Yumi Yamamoto
- Apr 2
- 7 min read
As someone who learned the craft of writing online and then transitioned into a formal school setting, I can tell you right now that I vastly prefer the formal school "workshop" style method of my college years. I had real, critical feedback that wasn't meant to cut, but meant to make the writing better. I learned why things worked or didn't, and what conventions of writing backed up those opinions. Even when I disagreed with assessments from others, it made me look at my writing as not something universally good or bad, but on a spectrum, and those "bad reviews" gave me an insight to what people expected of my writing. I learned how to play ball and work around certain things to change the perception of my work rather than trying to convince people that I was right outside of what was on the page. It's a game, and those who succeed learn how to play the game well.
This is both the blessing and the curse of workshops.
Let's first go into what a "workshop" is and what it's supposed to look like.
A workshop is a space of multiple people who have read a piece of writing, have already critiqued it, and are there to discuss the piece as it is presented. The author of that piece should (ideally) be in the room, but not interfere with the discussion of the work (traditionally, this is a silent, note-taking role). The workshop is to act as if the author is not there in the room and discuss as you might when talking in a book club or a literature class: talk about the good and the bad, deconstruct what's present on the page, make suggestions about what could be improved and why, and try your best to be fair in your assessment without being rude. If it is an incomplete work, the workshop might try to make predictions, or highlight things that hope will happen or hope will NOT happen. It is the job of the author to absorb the critique, make notes, and at the end of the critique ask a few questions. These questions can be to clarify statements made, get a sense of how many people agree/disagree with a sentiment, or ask about something that the author is concerned with (and perhaps did not get discussed). Sometimes, if the group is amiable, this may be a time to bounce ideas off of the workshop group on how to solve issues or make improvements.
Again, this is an IDEAL situation where everyone knows what they're doing, is polite, and has an interest in doing the workshop. It is unfortunate that workshops are rarely ideal. Learning how to critique well is a skill in itself that must be learned through example and doing them often enough that you know what you're supposed to be looking for. You'll also find that some people just click with your work and other people won't (just like some people love genre-heavy fiction and some people couldn't be paid to read it). Of course, there is the issue of emotions getting mixed into the critique. Some people are mean, or their words don't come across the way they want to, or the author is defensive of their work and doesn't like the way things are being picked apart. Communication can be difficult, especially when not everyone is around the same level of experience or skill (or both).
There is a lot that can be learned through workshopping. Personally, a lot of my grammar education came through workshops, as my classes had people who were vastly better at grammar than I was in certain areas (semi-colons, istg). I learned how to self-edit as I wrote, remembering someone's discussion about character or setting or pacing. I also got to listen to people speculate about what was happening, what the theme of the story was, and what I meant specifically by this one phrase that stood out among others. Having people interacting with my work on the word level and having my question everything I know about what writing looks like was incredible. I was used to uploading a chapter of fanfiction, getting a ton of good feedback about how the chapter as a whole made people feel, and then trucking on to the next chapter, ignorant of what I was actually writing. Workshops gave me a micro-view of my writing when all I had been doing was looking at the macro-view. I had shoveled in a bunch of sand into my sandbox, and now I had other people helping me make something better out of it. (Side note, I do not care that I use the sandbox metaphor all the time; I will use it long past the point of its proverbial death).
Here comes the point at which I take off my rose-colored glasses and take a critical look at why workshops are not for everyone, why they are constraining, and why they are very much part of the West. I still stand by that workshops are good for improvement and that everyone should feel safe in a 'shop environment, but to ignore the failures of workshops is disingenuous.
First, not everyone likes the traditional setup. I can be very intimidating and dehumanizing to listen to a group tear your piece apart and just have to sit there and take whatever comes out. Traditionally, you are not allowed to interject at all, even to clarify during the discussion. If there is a simple misunderstanding or a typo or something accidentally made the cut that you were supposed to delete, there can be entire discussions about the error, and the writer just has to sit there and take it. It's maddening sometimes. I'm guilty of interrupting a workshop to correct people's pronunciation of a Japanese name because I could not handle it anymore. That is, technically speaking, an interjection, and I shouldn't have interrupted. In a traditional view, people having a hard time pronouncing a name is a cue to change the name because it's too hard for people to say it.
Which brings me to the second reason: lack of diversity. You can see how that model can very easily lend itself to White-washing and erasure of the very things that make your story unique. Typically, those who are in a workshop critique are those who have read exclusively Western literature and take those models of storytelling as gospel. In fact, they are ONLY encouraged to read what is written by "the greats", who are almost always old, dead, White men (with a choice few White women in the mix). Eastern story conventions and storytelling from anywhere in the Global South are seen as lesser or confusing, and it's hard to keep your mouth shut when you're doing something intentionally outside the Westernized norm. This is a problem in some groups more than others, but as a whole it's hard to get something workshopped if it isn't in a strict 3-act, hero's journey-esque structure (or similar).
Thirdly, this technique does not always work for those who are neurodivergent. Rejection-sensitivity is something almost all neurodivergent people struggle with, and if the workshop isn't in the "Ideal Set-up" then someone is bound to get hurt. Additionally, the discussion around the book can take a long time, and some of us can't sit there for that long in silence. It makes the workshop model nearly impossible if the group can't take their time with anything. After a bad experience in a workshop, everyone has a hard time looking at their work to make the necessary fixes, and that's even harder when you're struggling with your own brain to begin with.
Fourthly, and I think the most important one, is that those in the workshop need to know HOW to workshop, and that is only taught by being IN workshops. Writing and publishing continue to be industries where apprentices learn by doing from those already in the business, and that extends to the workshop model. If you don't have someone who is experienced, then it is nearly impossible to get a group off the ground. You can get a basic idea, sure, but it's not necessarily how a workshop is meant to be, nor do you have the experience of handling issues when the workshop goes awry. That by itself is enough to deter writers from working together and get their stories published. Unfortunately, workshops exist mostly in the academic sphere, which means if you don't have access to a university with a Creative Writing program that has adopted a workshop method, then you're almost always out of luck. I know of a few groups that have existed to fill this academia-gap, but I have not found the same kind of energy, comradery, politeness, or skill level that I've found in academia (without paying for the experience). If you find a dedicated group with varying levels of expertise and it doesn't cost you anything, then keep hold of that group like a lifeline! They are rare gems and will always push your work to be the best it can be!
I'm sure that there are a lot of downsides to the workshop model that I am not covering, and that there are more nuanced conversations to be had surrounding workshops. Still, I believe these four to be the most egregious issues that make or break a workshop environment.
And I'm still a huge proponent of the workshop model. It helped me in the way developmental editing does, only I got developmental critiques from a dozen people all at once and witnessed a "pure" discussion about it. I never agree with everything that's going on, but the good far outweighs the bad in my opinion. It's not an easy thing, but with time, patience, and a LOT of tweaking, I believe that everyone can find a group to help them along their writing journey, and I wish nothing but the best for those who are searching for that perfect group.
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