Lesley Residency 4.3

The day you get your story workshopped is always the hardest day at these things. For a guy like me, who is exceptionally insecure even at his best moments, one can’t help but walk away from workshop feeling like one has absolutely nothing to offer to the literary world, that everything you do and everything you have ever done is a big, festering pile of horse shit.

This is not to say that my workshop went badly. In fact, it went quite well. What I realized was not that I was a horrible writer, though that thought did cross my mind. What I realized was that the chapter of my novel we worked out, which is loosely based on my old stage play A Lick and a Promise, is in need of great work. The fact is that it is probably not as loosely based as it should be. The tone is too farcical for the rest of the novel and, in the context of a somewhat literary story, the idea of everyone bedding everyone else all in one chapter comes off as a bit forced and unnatural.

So, anyway, we did my story today and before that we did another. My car worked, I got home safely, and Stef even looked up some hotels for me to stay at for the remainder of the residency, so that I don’t have to deal with the perilous drives any more the necessary. It was a hard day, but it was a good one.