by Nib
This is what Eleanor Roosevelt said and
I think it’s good advice. Well, not the
EVERY day thing. I only need so much challenge in my life.
I like Eleanor
Roosevelt. At least, I like the woman I perceive her to have been since I never
met her in real life. She seems strong and capable, courageous and
compassionate.
Inspired by Ellie’s nudge, I decided to
take a stab at something I’ve been scared of for a long time. I shut my eyes,
gulped down my fear and volunteered to teach a class on writing. It’s not a
huge obligation, just a three-hour workshop. Only three hours. A mere… THREE
LONG, EXCURITATING, TERRIFYING HOURS!
It’s not that I’m afraid of public
speaking. I’ve read fear of public speaking ranks second only to fear of
snakes. But I’m one of the lucky few who only get mildly nervous. My extreme
discomfort stems from the deep-seated insecurity that I know nothing about
writing. Despite having been at it long enough that my first completed novel
would be eligible to vote and drink in any state, and having a published
thriller and am midway through a three-book contract for a mystery series and have
been included in several anthologies, I feel like a poseur.
My generous and supportive Sisters of
the Quill have been encouraging me to teach a workshop or two for quite a
while. Karen Lin is a consummate teacher. She’s a sought-after presenter at
writing conferences and has even scored a couple of gigs on cruise ships. Her
knowledge is vast and her advice is spot-on. She’s got something to tell
writers.
Both Julie Kaewart and Janet Fogg are
multi-published and have years of experience. I know, from their adept critique
of my work, they know their stuff and can lead any aspiring writer along the
right path. I’d listen to any knowledge and advice they put out.
I sort of feel like I ought to be a
super-star to put myself up as worthy of teaching. But I’m just a regular Joe
(Josephine?) trying to improve with each book. I have shelves of books on
writing, stacks of CDs from conferences, notebooks full from workshops I’ve
attended. Every time I read a novel part of my brain is picking it apart,
trying to identify why it works or why it falls flat. In other words, I’m the
student, not the all-knowing teacher.
Yet, when I think about my writing
journey, I’m grateful for all the writers who presented at the conferences I
attended. They may not have been NY Times bestsellers (though some of them
were) and they may not have known all there was to know. Some of them haven’t
published a novel. But they knew stuff. Good stuff. I picked up bits and pieces
and whole new ways of thinking from these writers willing to pass along what
they know.
So allowing myself the benefit of not being
an all-encompassing expert and realizing I’m traveling on the journey like
everyone else, I’m going to do this really scary thing and teach a workshop. It
doesn’t mean I’ve arrived at the Big Time. But I didn’t know anything about
writing when I started and now I know a couple of things. So I’ll teach those
and maybe they will help another writer improve a little.
I’m going to go out there and grow some
character. Just maybe, along the way I might be able to help someone else, too.
