It’s helpful to know that obstacles are part of the writing process, but how are you supposed to deal with them when they raise their ugly heads? What can you do if you’re confused, say, about setting, or plot, or the relevance of that stuff for your chosen genre? And where do you go for feedback when you really need to know if what you’ve got is any good?
Mind you, enrolling in an MFA program is a terrific way to learn how to write, but there are some other ways to get guidance and develop your skills while working on your book:
Get a coach. If you’d like more personalized, one-on-one attention, lots more focus on your work as you push forward with the process, there’s nothing better than hiring a writing coach, like me. Coaching usually entails weekly or monthly sessions—either in person or on the phone—designed to answer your questions, keep you on track, support your mindset, and tweak your writing along the way. Coaching is also about accountability. Enter into a coaching relationship and you’ll be browbeaten into producing material on a regular basis. (I so love this part of the coaching process!)
Take an online class. A couple of times a year, I run a six-week, online course that covers important elements of writing including plot, character, conflict, dialogue and setting. And, as hard as this is to believe, I’m not the only show in town. Plug in the keywords “online writing” and see what pops up in your search engine. You’ll want to look for a class that provides instruction as well as the discussion of participants’ work.
Find a writing class at a local college. College classes are conducted in much the same way as the online variety. Teachers present an aspect of craft, assign readings for better understanding, then have students read aloud from their work to allow everyone, including the author, to hear what works well, and what sounds off. The teacher and fellow classmates then offer their opinion about the work; always looking for ways to solve problems, not tear it down. This is a wonderful way to meet more writers. Remember, the more writers you know, the more you write. (These are now being conducted online as well.)
Join a writers’ group. These are groups that meet weekly, or monthly, to share their work. Some writers’ groups are private, meaning by invitation only. (Don’t wait to be invited, form one of your own.) Many are open to the public and are hosted by local libraries or bookshops. Public groups can be interesting because new people show up on a regular basis. Sometimes more experienced writers will help out the newbies, sometimes not. Sometimes, just listening to people share their work and hearing what others have to say about it can be a big help. Can’t find one? Check out your local coffee shop, the newspaper, meetup.com, and university bulletin boards. (My old writing group is now meeting every Tuesday night on Zoom.)
Join a local writers’ workshop. The difference between a group and a workshop is that one is free and unorganized; the other costs money and is structured like a university class. Local workshops are usually less expensive than university workshops, yet they offer the same type of instruction, feedback, and motivation. There’s nothing better than having your work closely reviewed by a teacher who understands writing; who can offer his or her observations or ask the right questions to keep your creativity flowing. (You can bet a lot of these have gone online.)
Read books on craft. Each time I read about craft, I spot something I want to teach, and to work on in my own writing. Last week, for instance, I read, “Never say, ‘I felt, I feel…’ in your manuscript. This is not therapy. Show how you felt. Reveal it in an interesting way, but for God’s sake, don’t start your sentence with I feel.” Now I’m going to tear apart my manuscript looking for these phrases to cut. After I tell my students to knock it off.
My favorite craft book, particularly for those who are just getting started, is Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird. (There’s a reason I quote her so much.) She has a wonderful, funny way of breaking down the main components of the craft and really simplifying them. Her supporting examples always make me roar.
Read other authors. Read like you’ve never read before, particularly books in your chosen genre. Read to solve your own problems. Analyze how other writers solve that same sticky issue. If you’re writing a novel, for instance, read to study the structure; the way the author uses setting, or body language; the balance between action and dialogue; or whatever you need to learn most at any given point in time. Decide if you like the choices an author has made, or not. You get to be the judge. You also get to be your best teacher.
Read The New York Times Book Review. The Book Review is essentially a series of free tutorials in which professional writers critique the work of each other. I like to think of these reviews as free writing lessons from blunt people. Reviewers describe—in often stunning detail—what makes a recently published book powerful, or lyrical, or what makes the thing a complete disaster, suitable only to line a birdcage. Believe me, these people don’t pull punches.
Occasionally, I’ll come across a review that describes an issue within a book that I, too, have been struggling with. I’ll read on and see how the reviewer thinks the problem could’ve been solved, and, violá; I’ve got myself a free writing lesson. By reading the review, I also get lots of ideas for my own writing. I’m amazed at how creative people are.