The workshop went ok, most of the comments were ones I expected. What I didn’t expect was Thom’s treatment of my story. His comments suggest he didn’t even read it thoroughly, or even read it at all really, and his suggestion for revision was the stupidest suggestion ever because then I would be writing a huge cliche. I feel betrayed. I invested myself as a student and as a writer, and in return he didn’t bother investing himself as a reader and failed in his tutor obligations. After a lot of tears, and a lot of yelling, and some lingustics to bring the mind back into working logically, I’ve somewhat recovered.
I learned a long long time ago, write what your teacher wants you to write. I thought for a change I wouldn’t, and I would write something I was emotionally invested in, and it backfired. I blame it all on cultural differences; I didn’t write for an American, I wrote for a New Zealand audience.
So I’m busy picking up the pieces of my shattered soul. Luckily I had a friend to talk to who went through a similar experience with the first round of workshopping. Still breathing, albeit resentfully.