Four Days Left - You Can Still Do This
Mental Health Experts Agree: People should Write or Stop Talking about Writing
Syllabus Schmyllabus
When I was putting together the materials for my upcoming workshop—Six Weeks to a Vomit Draft (with me, Bill Gullo)—I realized I didn’t want to use the word Syllabus. It reminded me too much of school. And as I wrote to my participants: this ain’t school.
I’m not saying school sucks. But I am saying the phrase school sucks is deeply embedded in our culture—and, to my knowledge, no one has ever said Workshops with Bill Gullo suck. So why would I want to associate myself with such a suspect institution?
In my university workshops, I always start by telling students not to think of the space as a classroom, but as a writers' room. Classrooms are typically passive spaces. I have great respect for teachers but it’s a rare one that is able to create an environment of active participation. It’s not always their fault. They’re working within a massive system that, again, many describe as “sucking.” Writers' rooms, on the other hand, are active spaces. People lean in. They contribute. They argue. They build. They don’t slouch in their seats, praying not to be called on.
I approach workshops and conversations about writing with an acute awareness that, while there are universal, time-tested things that work, writers can do whatever the hell they want, and it will either work or it won’t and you learn as you go.
Can One Teach Writing?
I’ve heard people say, You can’t teach writing, but I’ve always disagreed with that and frankly barely understand the idea. To me, that sentiment puts writing on a pedestal that I’ve never constructed for myself or others. As if writing is so singular and special that it can only be done by a Chosen Few. It’s hard work, and if you do it, I believe you can get better at it. Are there exceptions? Sure. But that makes for a very different statement: You can’t teach writing to everyone. And to that, I would say, no shit.
I do experience writing as a meticulous and meditative act, but I don’t put it above other occupations. If anything, I can be at risk of minimizing the endeavor, especially if I find the work to have no meaning beyond the writer’s ego or aspirations. I gradually have found it to be a lifestyle choice as much as an occupation.
When I try to make further sense of this idea that one can’t teach writing, I think this: maybe teach is the wrong word for it. Maybe I’m not teaching writing but rather am teaching about writing. Or better still, I’m sharing my experiences with the act of writing in hopes that others will gain from my experience and the way I talk about it.
I do know I can get onboard with this: You can’t teach writing to people who don’t write. And the truth is, a lot of people I meet who speak of a burning desire to write, even those who claim a desire to be a professional writer, do not write. Not enough. Writers who are serious about writing know the truth: writing takes a shit load of time. I often start my workshops with what might be tough love: don’t say writing is hard unless you’re actually doing it. Enough talking and thinking about it.
This Coming Saturday!
I’m excited to share my tips, tools and states of mind during my upcoming workshop. If you still want to join you can. It’s virtual so there’s room. I would offer a discount but I find it cringey. Below are the broad strokes of the Six Weeks. Stay tuned as I share specific assignments and lessons with Paid Subscribers.
On that note, I want to encourage readers who want to learn new perspectives on writing to Upgrade their subscription for access to a growing amount of curriculum and access to my curriculum and to me as I am offering more live and in person opportunities. If you’re financially unable to Upgrade at this time, drop me a line and we can work something out.
6 Weeks to a Vomit Draft (with me, Bill Gullo)
An Overview