In the first half of 2014 I decided to take a creative writing class. The class was in Cambridge Massachusetts and funnily enough, taught by a neighbor that lives a few blocks from me in the South End of Boston. I was later to discover that we also have at least one friend in common – yes, Boston is small.
So I dutifully signed up, paid my fee, and got myself psyched for “going back to school.” I actually like school, so that wasn’t a huge stretch. I also figured, if anything, it would help me with the seven chapters of a murder mystery I’d already spent a number of months researching, taking notes for, and writing. Yes, you guessed it, I work slowly at things I don’t know, and at 150 miles an hour at things I know well. So it’s safe for you to assume that writing is a new endeavor for me. Well, I was partially right and I was partially wrong about the class helping me with my novel.
The course was taught as a workshop. I had no idea what this meant but learned quickly that I’d have to share either my weekly assignments or my class project, a 10-15 page short story, at some point during the semester. During the first class I was plagued with what I was sure were heart palpitations, a sweaty brow, and a severe grumbling stomach, despite the fact I’d had a healthy meal for dinner. All this worry was for naught. My classmates turned out to be awesome people – oh, except for the crazy girl that dropped out after the fourth class. And of course, I survived, which is why I wanted to tell everybody about it.
We were instructed to start our class project right away. I spent the next two weeks working on the basic structure of a mystery story. I knew autobiographical writing was not generally encouraged at the college level (I remembered this from classes I’d taken years ago), but I based the idea of my piece loosely on a real life event, and it worked. I wrote and edited the first draft feverishly, because I’d also volunteered to present my piece soon after class presentations began – three or four weeks in. It seemed like a good idea to get the presentation part of the assighnments out of the way sooner than later. Plus, if I presented sooner, I figured it didn’t have to be as polished as those that came at the end of the semester.
My classmates liked the story. The professor did not. In fact, he told me he didn’t want a mystery at all, he wanted an in-depth character study. And so I change it to a character study, and then he told he me wanted it to end differently and proceeded to tell me how he wanted it to end. I was truly annoyed. Thoughts went through my mind like, “how dare he tell a writer what to write”, “that’s not creative it’s spoon feeding and I’m learning nothing by that,” and so on. My partner of 17 years, said to me, “Forget that you are angry and try to really learn something!” Hum, that sounded too level headed to me, but I succumbed to his advice and reluctantly plodded forward.
In taking the professor’s advice I butchered my much beloved mystery and changed it to a character driven plot versus a plot driven by action, and I gave him the ending he wanted. Don’t fool yourselves though, I saved my original and I will go back to it one of these dags. After all, Agatha Christie published two versions of The Mystery of the Spanish Chest. What evolved from this exercise is a real story, fraught with conflict, and real character drama. I, more than anybody else, was surprised by the outcome.
By the end of the class, I realized, as hard as it was to take the criticism and rework the writing I’d fallen so in love with, I’d actually learned something that would in fact benefit those seven chapters I’d shelved at the beginning of the semester. I learned that they were downright boring. There was little conflict, the characters where flat, and there was nothing at stake for my amateur sleuth or his sidekick. There was a lack of what the book was about and that has forced me to reconsider the story altogether, like where the story starts, for example, amd the quirks that the characters might have, and different ways to build suspense. It has also taught me how to read more critically. I don’t just sit down any longer and plow through an Agatha Christie novel or short story, I actually take notes now about the devices and methods the writer uses that make the story so good. And lo and behold, I am now ready to go back to the drawing board, rework those seven chapters, ratchet up the suspense and conflict, and make the characters standout.
I still wish I’d been able to workshop my mystery but in the end the class was worth it.
The completed class short story is here.