Crap

When I was sixteen, I attended my first writing workshop, bringing with me my first attempt at a short story. It was a first draft, all rough, no editing, no outline beforehand. It was everything you would expect from a sixteen-year-old’s first short story. In a word, it was crap.

I can say that, honestly, and without shame, now that I’m older and know so much more about writing.

Anyway, I sat holding a teddybear (a big white one given to me by Mary Turzillo, the workshop leader) while the group went around, each taking one minute to give their critique (Clarion-style). Many struggled to find positives. There was a lot of “shows potential”.

Then the man directly to my right got his turn. He shifted in his seat to face me, an adorable (if I say so myself) 16-year-old girl with a teddy bear, and said,

You have wasted all our time on this piece of crap. This is not writing. It’s typing.

He went on to eviscerate my story. Cliches. Stereotypes. Grammar mistakes. Plot holes. Bad dialogue.

There was a heavy silence when he finished. It was my turn, as author, to respond.

“Wow,” I said. “Wow. Thank you guys. I have so much to learn!”

To this day, I’m proud that that first, harsh critique didn’t reduce me to tears. It helped, though, that I had no particular emotional investment in the story I’d written. I’d just written it because the workshop required short stories.

I’m thinking about this moment because so often people ask me “Will you read my story? Just tell me if it’s crap.”

I will not tell you if your story is crap. I don’t expect every novice writer to have the detachment I had at that first workshop. Chances are, if you’re just starting out, what you write is crap. So? A lot of what is published is crap. Just read reviews.

Crap / not crap isn’t a worthwhile dichotomy. “Is this project worth pursuing?” It is if you are willing to put in the time it will need, which will likely be more than you think. Will it sell and make money? Probably not in its current state. See that “put in the time” part.

Someone – possibly Mary – told me once you have to write a million words of absolute crap in your lifetime. They are in you and they have to come out before anything good can be written. But that crap is part of the good stuff. You don’t learn how to play baseball without whiffing at whiffle ball.

You don’t learn how to write without writing crap.