My link to the N.V.M. Gonzalez Writers’ Workshop began in 2005, when the first workshop was held at UCLA. Since then, it has been my pleasure to teach in the workshop, which bears the name of the late N.V.M. Gonzalez, one of the Philippines’ greatest fiction writers and literary critics.
Every two years, we gather on different West Coast college campuses. The students – as I recall, mostly Filipino – come from diverse backgrounds and have different levels of skill. Some are veterans of the workshop process and have works in progress, while still others are just curious about the fiction writing process.
But for three-plus days every other July, they share one common trait: a singular focus on developing a deeper understanding of the theories of compelling fiction and improving some aspect (or several aspects) of their ability to write it.
The size of the workshop is small; rarely are there more than a dozen students. That allows me to ask what aspect or aspects of the craft they wish to work on: effective dialogue, smooth transitions, plotting, whatever. This allows me to use a variety of exercises addressing specific student requests.
But in addition to these requests, there is a basic skill that every good fiction writer must possess, i.e., the ability to immerse the reader in the novel, short story, or novella so that he or she can hear, see, and feel what the characters hear, see, and feel. I then tell my students to think of their most memorable scene in film, and each makes a choice. I then tell them that if they reach a certain level of skill, they can – without a multi-million dollar budget - create a scene that is just as vivid in the reader’s mind.
Their tools? A pen, a pad, their own evolving skills, their greater understanding of the writer’s craft, and their growing imaginations.
To achieve this vividness, we have often focused on word choice: For a fiction writer, every word is used for a reason. In other words, every word counts.
Say, for example, the writer uses the word “vehicle”; it conjures nothing because it could be any kind of truck, or car, or bus. But if the writer wrote “black, cherried out 1957 Chevy convertible,” the image is so much clearer, particularly for readers of a certain advanced age.
This is done through the process of each student reading other students’ work and providing constructive feedback. For example, if the student writer relies too much on third-person omniscient narrative, I may ask: “Do you think the image would be sharper if the reader could “hear” the character speak?”
It’s another way of saying fiction “shows” what the writer has put on the page; it doesn’t tell or explain. Good fiction evokes, yet beginning writers are often hesitant to veer too far away from reliance on narration because it strongly resembles the form of writing they are most familiar with: composition.
This is just part of the territory we’ve covered in workshop since 2005.
The most recent N.V.M. Gonzalez Writers’ Workshop was held this past July 2013 at the University of Washington in Seattle. I have thoroughly enjoyed all of the other workshops, but this one was special. It was smaller than most, and that allowed me more time to spend with each writer and his or her work.
Overall, I was thoroughly impressed by the openness of the writers to feedback, the high quality of their works in progress, their desire to expand their skills, and the generosity they showed toward each other. I am certain that N.V.M., who was also a master teacher, would have been pleased.
It was a special time. The next workshop will be held in two years – and I can hardly wait.
© Peter Bacho
N.V.M. Gonzalez Writers’ Workshop in Seattle. Author is third from left