“Intimidation works for me. Not when I’m stuck in the sense of needing to work out a specific problem in a story, but when the quality or ambition of my work
has hit a plateau. Nothing pushes me past that like the intimidation factor of doing a workshop with a writer (whether an instructor or fellow student) whose work I really admire or who is known for excellent taste. The first passable story I ever wrote was in a class with the late Hubert Selby Jr. Up until that point, my graduate work in fiction had been pretty appalling; I was skating by on a few decent poems. I wasn’t scared of Selby (it was hard to be frightened of a guy who went by the name ‘Cubby’) but I was humbled by his accomplishments and couldn’t stand the thought of disappointing him. Since then, every time I’ve had a workshop experience that terrified me on some level, it’s made a difference in my writing. In the performing arts, there’s that edge of adrenaline, which—in the right dose—gives live performances an electricity that rehearsals don’t have. Writers rarely get to experience that edge. In general, I don’t think a competitive bent is all that healthy for art-making, but plugging into that part of myself when I need to challenge my writing—to raise the stakes for myself to see what I’m really made of—seems to work for me. Find a way to get in the room with those whose opinions matter to you. Manufacture a little stage fright.”
—Melissa Yancy, author of Dog Years (University of Pittsburgh Press, 2016)
Photo credit: Trixie Sison