Writers giving back - in a perfect world, I'd like to think we're all giving back by writing the stories we write. I doubt any of us would be putting in the hours at the keyboard if we hadn't been inspired by the writers whose stories impacted us. In a way, everything I write is part of an ongoing conversation between me and the books that move me. Pretty sentiment, maybe, but the giving shouldn't stop there. Most of us, when we talk about giving back think in terms of giving back to the community, by which, we mean 1. the world at large or 2. our special interest community. Let's cover all the bases.
Giving back to the world at large:
Give - money, time, goods. Said it last week. 10% of what I make goes to charity. I am not the world's greatest volunteer since introversion precludes me from saying, "Oh! PICK ME! PICK ME!" However, I have offered to proof and copy edit material for local community orgs. At more than one point, it's possible non-writer skills have been tapped in the service of the local Boys and Girls Club. Donating books and promo materials (like tee shirts with book covers on them) for fund raisers is also legit. Even if it is a bit self-serving.
Giving back to other writers:
Share what you know. Teach. Recognize that you have a unique set of skills. It is not presumptuous to teach. Fact: There will always be people farther along the ole author trail than you. You aren't necessarily teaching to them. You're offering up your experience, your filter on the process, whatever it is you have to offer, to those who are coming up behind you. And I don't necessarily mean that in a creepy 'coming up behind you' way. Unless that makes you write more. Then I totally do.
Serve your writer orgs. Volunteer to chair a thing. Serve on the board. There's a self serving reason to do this. You meet people - people you can learn from. People who may have just the piece of knowledge you needed but didn't know you needed.
Critique if it works for you. Some people can't handle other people's input on their writing - it feels too much like diluting the process. Intellectually, I get that. I, however, am far too insecure to send something no one else has ever laid eyes upon to my editor. Good critique partners are hard to find, but they are worth their weight in gold. Harder still to BE a good critique partner. The pay off is 100% worth it. I learn as much reading other people's drafts as I do having my drafts read and suggestions made thereupon.
Find a thing you love on Kickstarter and support it. This may not be another author. Maybe you prefer to support the gaming company that wants to build a steampunk zombie shooter. Or you love the thought of a plaid rabbit tarot deck. Whatever! You get to support another artist. Remind me, sometime, to show you my $15 piece of the Tesla museum. (The Oatmeal is raising funds to turn Tesla's lab into a museum. He did a tee shirt. Among other things.) The point is to support something you love in a fashion that won't break your bank.
Specific for helping new writers:
Judge contests that allow feedback - this lets you give constructive, limited critique to someone who may have just worked up the courage to send work out into the world. Also, there is no more fun in the world than finding an entry that takes your breath away and getting to write on it 'SUBMIT THIS BEFORE I HUNT YOU DOWN'.
Sharing what you know goes here, too. So does serving your writer orgs. The other thing I like to do is hook new writers up with writers orgs. Not everyone is going to want to join Romance Writers of America. There's still (in my area) Pacific Northwest Writers Association and a bunch of other genre specific groups. If I can, when someone tells me they'd really like to write a novel, I start laying out their writer group options. So far, exactly one person has taken me up on a writer's group invite. The rest all kind of edged away from me. Does that make me a mean writer?
Showing posts with label volunteering. Show all posts
Showing posts with label volunteering. Show all posts
Friday, December 5, 2014
Friday, June 7, 2013
Workshop Know How
You can teach workshops. Honest. Anyone can. It's rewarding and if you play your cards right, it's fun. The most fun I've had at a conference is doing a workshop.
Everyone knows something. You have specialized knowledge - whether it's about a time in history, a specific location, a method for getting into character, or for writing 40,000 words in two days. Try brainstorming a list of things you know. Identify one or two you'd like to work up into a presentation. Brainstorm out all of the things you'd want to tell fellow writers about on your chosen subject. Now decide whether you want to talk for forty-five to fifty minutes while people take notes, or whether you want some participation in the form of writing exercises or even getting people on their feet to try what you're talking about. Does your subject matter allow for the use of media like movie clips, slides or other audio/visual?
Know thyself, workshop presenter. Can you speak from a simple outline? Or do you need your presentation fully scripted out?
From your brainstormed list, build your outline and/or write up your presentation. This is a rough draft. If you have to do some research to fill in details or history, that happens now and fills in your draft. Let it sit for a week. Go back to it. Rearrange as the mood moves you. Tighten it up. Fill in details you'd forgotten until now. If you have photos or clips that you want to use in the presentation, build that file and note in your presentation outline which photos or clips go where. You can build the whole thing as a Powerpoint presentation if you like that sort of thing and if it won't divert you from writing your own books.
Set up your presentation and try speaking all the words - give the workshop to your stuffed animals or your action figures. Time yourself. Is it physically possible to say everything within 50 minutes? Breathing is not optional. If you don't breathe, neither will your audience. If you aren't comfortable saying what you have to say within the time constraint, no one else will be either. Speaking too quickly means no one absorbs what you say. So speak slowly and deliberately. Make heartless cuts to your content in order to fit comfortably within the time allotted.
Now, you need guinea pigs. Ask your local writer's group if they'd let you do your workshop for them. Most groups will. Ask for feedback and really listen to it so you can learn from it. You're not looking for public speaking critiques - at this point, you're vetting content. Did people feel like you left out anything vital? Where they overwhelmed? Would your audience have liked a copy of your notes? A list of your source materials so they could do some further research? Consider adding those things.
See if there's another writers' group in the next town/county/whatever that would let you do the workshop again. You're doing it again not only to work in feedback, but also to become more confident with your material.
At this point, you're ready to propose the workshop for a conference. Most conferences only allow 50 minutes for workshops (to allow people to get from place to another on time). If you intend to answer questions, plan for a few minutes.
At a conference, you'll want to state a few ground rules right up front.
1. Most conferences have people pitching - say so and tell people that if they get up and leave, you'll assume they have a pitch and you don't mind (and then don't mind or take it personally when someone leaves)
2. Point out the restrooms
3. State whether you'll take questions as you go, or whether you prefer that people hold their questions until the end
Then dive right in. Have fun. Invite your audience to have fun. If you screw up, laugh at yourself. No one gets shot at dawn because you lost your place.
Save your notes! After you've done your workshop, you have the groundwork for an article on your subject.
Everyone knows something. You have specialized knowledge - whether it's about a time in history, a specific location, a method for getting into character, or for writing 40,000 words in two days. Try brainstorming a list of things you know. Identify one or two you'd like to work up into a presentation. Brainstorm out all of the things you'd want to tell fellow writers about on your chosen subject. Now decide whether you want to talk for forty-five to fifty minutes while people take notes, or whether you want some participation in the form of writing exercises or even getting people on their feet to try what you're talking about. Does your subject matter allow for the use of media like movie clips, slides or other audio/visual?
Know thyself, workshop presenter. Can you speak from a simple outline? Or do you need your presentation fully scripted out?
From your brainstormed list, build your outline and/or write up your presentation. This is a rough draft. If you have to do some research to fill in details or history, that happens now and fills in your draft. Let it sit for a week. Go back to it. Rearrange as the mood moves you. Tighten it up. Fill in details you'd forgotten until now. If you have photos or clips that you want to use in the presentation, build that file and note in your presentation outline which photos or clips go where. You can build the whole thing as a Powerpoint presentation if you like that sort of thing and if it won't divert you from writing your own books.
Set up your presentation and try speaking all the words - give the workshop to your stuffed animals or your action figures. Time yourself. Is it physically possible to say everything within 50 minutes? Breathing is not optional. If you don't breathe, neither will your audience. If you aren't comfortable saying what you have to say within the time constraint, no one else will be either. Speaking too quickly means no one absorbs what you say. So speak slowly and deliberately. Make heartless cuts to your content in order to fit comfortably within the time allotted.
Now, you need guinea pigs. Ask your local writer's group if they'd let you do your workshop for them. Most groups will. Ask for feedback and really listen to it so you can learn from it. You're not looking for public speaking critiques - at this point, you're vetting content. Did people feel like you left out anything vital? Where they overwhelmed? Would your audience have liked a copy of your notes? A list of your source materials so they could do some further research? Consider adding those things.
See if there's another writers' group in the next town/county/whatever that would let you do the workshop again. You're doing it again not only to work in feedback, but also to become more confident with your material.
At this point, you're ready to propose the workshop for a conference. Most conferences only allow 50 minutes for workshops (to allow people to get from place to another on time). If you intend to answer questions, plan for a few minutes.
At a conference, you'll want to state a few ground rules right up front.
1. Most conferences have people pitching - say so and tell people that if they get up and leave, you'll assume they have a pitch and you don't mind (and then don't mind or take it personally when someone leaves)
2. Point out the restrooms
3. State whether you'll take questions as you go, or whether you prefer that people hold their questions until the end
Then dive right in. Have fun. Invite your audience to have fun. If you screw up, laugh at yourself. No one gets shot at dawn because you lost your place.
Save your notes! After you've done your workshop, you have the groundwork for an article on your subject.
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