For My Writers

Especially those who haven't written in a minute (or decade)

I recently saw quite a peculiar review in which an author/critic spoke negatively about a fellow author’s choice to, um, teach writing. I assume the critic will inevitably take on the task of teaching at some point, as most authors do, unless they choose to work in marketing, at a grocery store, or to rely on loans or gifts (I have done all of these things.)

It was an odd and, I assume, deliberately provocative statement. The critic expressed the opinion that authors who teach for a living will inevitably write in some formulaic fashion. If the critic feels this way, I surely cannot contradict them. This may indeed be their real, lived experience.

What I can say is that teaching public school full-time is quite exhausting, in my experience, and does not leave much mental and emotional room for most people to churn out essays and books! I think the critic was specifically displeased by the notion of an author teaching college full-time, which is a bit different. I don’t know what that is like. Perhaps the critic actually tried it in the past and found that their own work suffered, which is why they made such a statement about this other author.

Here is a piece by David Gessner for the New York Times Magazine’s “The College Issue” in 2008. To his surprise, he found he loved being a writing professor. Bear in mind this was before 75% of college courses were taught by adjunct faculty who typically work for low wages and no benefits. Still, Gessner’s points about the joy of working at UNC-Wilmington remain relevant and lovely.

It provides all the practical things that can help prop us up above the morass of our insane callings, not to mention something we can wave at the world like a badge. And don’t forget this bonus: other people. How delightful to work on this thing called a hallway, populated not just by colleagues but by students, all committed to, or at the very least interested in, writing. And this is all without even mentioning the teaching itself. I love teaching. There is a deep pleasure in sharing the things that you have labored to learn in solitude. It’s inspiring work — rewarding, interactive, human work so different from what we do at our desks — and it turns out that writers, many of us natural entertainers, often do it quite well.

I don’t think of myself as a teacher, perhaps because I haven’t done this wonderful and often-trying work in a few years. Therefore, I did not personally feel offended, just a little confused, until I remembered that I, too, have written plenty of things with deliberately provocative and silly statements in order to gain attention for my work.

Also, sometimes being cunty is simply fun.

I boiled down my own philosophy around writing education in this 2021 essay, How to Write Stuff Real Good. It’s a little out of date, but still mostly true.

I don’t know the author who wrote the review or the author who wrote the book being reviewed, and indeed cannot recall either name. But it reminded me that I miss teaching, not because I think I have anything original to say as a teacher, but because I enjoy reading students’ work, and meeting creative people and encouraging them to do their best.

Also, some of my most talented and amazing writer friends/acquaintances have taught writing courses in college, as guest lecturers at various venues, at workshops, and/or online through master classes: Francesca Lia Block, Carmen Maria Machado, Neil Gaiman, Brianna Holt, Min Jin Lee and

Roxane Gay

just to name a few. They’re all brilliant. I know some fairly well and others hardly at all, and I am not a completist when it comes to any of their work, but I can certainly say that I’d gladly exchange my precious supply of a.) Grape-Nuts cereal or b.) overpriced facial moisturizer in order to be as productive and excellent as these writers.

I’ve never been an adjunct professor, much less somebody who has grasped that rarest of tertiary school rewards: the tenure-track position. I did teach public school for a couple of years. I’ve taught workshops at festivals and online. I’ve taught individuals on a one-to-one basis. One does always learn something from one’s students, even if it is that one no longer wishes to teach! (This is not what I learned, but it is a valuable lesson all the same.)

The greatest value in taking a writing course is the motivation to write. We all have different versions of accountability, and for many of us, the prospect of arriving in class empty-handed is enough to make us get the words out.

I don’t have any sort of assignment like that for you in this paid edition of my newsletter. After all, that’s not why you signed up! (I am thankful you DID sign up, by the way, and this is one of the two exclusive posts just for generous paid subscribers like you.)

But I do have a little exercise, if you’re interested. Maybe you’ve never done so-called “creative writing” before, and have no interest in being an author, poet, dramatist, etc. That’s okay. I find that these little writing exercises - sort of like acting or improv comedy or dance exercises - can help stimulate fertile thought about another subject entirely.