On Saturday, September 12, Kaboom gave a presentation at the Kentucky Women Writers Conference. We held a meeting as if the audience was not there. As usual, we began with goal-setting. As usual, Leatha arrived late, and as usual, we kept on going. Each of us stated a writing goal for this week. Goal-setting makes us accountable to the group.
We moved on to a live critique of four pages from “Blue Hen,” a chapter in my novel-in-progress. The first round robin elicited such praise that I felt almost embarrassed, as if my fellow writers were exaggerating the good points for the audience. But because they explained how the piece worked and pointed out particular passages of support, I felt encouraged and pleased that my intent had been realized. Then, of course, came the harder parts, the places where rhythm contradicted sense, where details were left out, where (strange) questions were raised. (This is often my favorite part of hearing criticism because it makes me go back to the words and discover what other meanings lay hidden as I wrote but rose up bright and blinding for a reader.)
One person questioned “piles of peach pits, the color of toasted coffee.” When I got home, I went out back to my peach tree and found several pits that were indeed deep brown. I felt relieved and satisfied that my description worked, because the sentence came to me as sound, in the repetition of p, t, and hard c. I rely on Kaboom writers to tell me when I am so in love with the music of a sentence that I forget its sense. Sometimes I argue with their responses, usually right then. However, after time has passed, and I am ready to revise a piece, the protective anxiety that clouded the session is long gone. Their thoughts written down, offered in generous spirit, guide me to the better word every time.
Okay, Lynn — Thanks for making me look like a slacker!
You neglected to mention that my being late was a set-up from the start, with me waiting outside until you all had started. Late — yep, I often am — but not for work!! We just wanted people to know that someone will be late for every meeting, and the point is to just keep going. Yay, Kaboom! We keep going no matter what.
Hey, Leatha,
I hope that is the symbol for SMILE!
Susan and I pondered that for quite a few emails before it went post. She suggested I include words that mentioned the charade; I suggested we substitute “a member” for your name because I liked the rhythm of the sentences, and that seemed to me a solution. However, it went live with no correction at all. If either one of us had altered it, it would have been close to your suggestion. You are the last person in the world who is a slacker–whatever the opposite of slacker is, that’s you.
I agree. Live and learn and keep on going.
I love this give and take! And I admire you for being the guinea pig in our “live critique.” Thanks for putting in your emotional-level responses to our take on your work. We don’t often get to hear what is going on in the writer’s mind during a workshop session. Your glimpse is helpful to me — and I am sure it will be to other readers as well.