I saw something last night that pointed out that Nathan Ballingrud, Cory Doctorow, and Jeff VanderMeer were all in the same Clarion class together. These are three absolutely amazing authors, and if you’re not familiar with them, check out their work. Anyway, I seem to have fixated on this fact all night, because I woke up angry and sad that I can’t attend Clarion.
I sometimes ask friends in the field if I should go, and most say that Clarion wouldn’t help me, that I’ve gotten a few sales and I’ve learned what I would probably learn there, but you know, I look at the field and nearly everyone has attended or taught there. I can’t escape this fear that Clarion teaches some ineffable thing that I don’t have, that if I could just get my hands on, my stories would start working and selling to pro markets.
At the very least, the instructors and editors invest some of their knowledge in you when you’re there, telling you why a story doesn’t work instead of just rejecting it. I feel like right now, I need someone to take what I’m producing and tell me how to fix it. I know how to break them. How do I fix them?
There for a while, I was content to just be writing again, but now I’ve accumulated a bunch more rejections and I’m back to hating every word I put down, back to feeling “the suck.”
Maybe I will just apply to go next year. Assuming I don’t stumble onto better writing between now and then. I’m tired of beating my head against the same barrier. I’m stuck in the same point I was several years ago, and I don’t know how to progress any further in my skill. Maybe I never will advance further. Maybe I wouldn’t even get in–then I guess I would know it would be time to hang up my hat.
This has been your weekly writing whining post. We now return you to Kansas anecdotes and other more upbeat posts.
At World Horror, Scott Edelman mentioned that he and Gene O’Neill were the last two “survivors” of Clarion 1979—that is, everyone else from that year had stopped trying to publish, or vanished, or whatnot.
Having read 3000+ stories for Clarkesworld, I’m happy to point out that there was zero difference in quality between a story whose author when to Clarion and one by someone who hadn’t. For a brief period I prioritized Clarion/Odyssey grads, then I realized there was no reason to. They were just as shitty as anyone else. They just blew six weeks and $3000 or more getting that shitty (or staying that shitty).
Also, you already know everyone. It should be easy enough to show someone a story and get feedback.
Thanks, Nick. I appreciate you pointing that out.
Jay Lake. Ken Scholes. Mary Robinette Kowal. They’re not nobodies, and they didn’t go to Clarion.
Did you see JJA’s post about the Odyssey Workshop? It has the highest publication success record of any of the big writing workshops, and in 2003, it was right at 50%. That’s right, the best success rate is that HALF the students go on to professional publication.
I think there’s a great spirit of camaraderie that forms at Clarion which can really support future formation of critique groups. That’s important. A well-supported writer is much, much more successful than an unsupported author.
And Nick’s absolutely right. I’ve only been looking at our (Fantasy’s) slush pile for six months now, and there’s no difference between the quality of writing from someone with a workshopping background or an MFA program, and somebody who just works their buns off.
I’m friends with Jay and Ken both, and I certainly don’t mean to imply that they are nobodies. I don’t know about Ken, but I know Jay very much wanted to go to Clarion though, and didn’t get accepted.
I just need to work on my support network and keep at it I guess.
Well, there are plenty of us who think you’re terrific and want to see you succeed!
Heya! Nope, it was never big on my list though it’s a great program. I mean, sure, if I had won the lottery or something. But there was no way I could take six weeks off of a job in addition to coming up with the expense of going.
My only workshops have been Kris and Dean’s Denise Little Anthology workshop and the Writers of the Future workshop. The first was very affordable, took up a weekend, and presented opportunities for pro-level sales from the workshop instructor. The second was paid for by the contest.
Jer, I’ve read your work and admired it. You don’t suck, dude. But most of us have that skewed perception, those Chattering Head Monkeys that tell us we do (for instance, I only sent Jay the first five chapters of Lamentation so he could see how utterly it sucked and let me off the hook for our bet. Now it’s winning awards internationally.)
Ultimately, we just have to keep writing and trust the mirrors to show us the bits of road we can’t see. And frankly, writing our own words and reading the words of others are the two most powerful bits of writerly training out there.
Keep writing, Jeremy. You have a good eye for story and a good ear for the right words.
Maybe I wouldn’t even get in–then I guess I would know it would be time to hang up my hat.
Or you’d know they figured you were too good to need their help.
And add MK Hobson to the list of people who haven’t gone. And while it seems like there are often a couple people in each year who go on to sell stuff, there are, like, seventeen or eighteen people in the class.
The two biggest things I got out of it were the camaraderie with my classmates and a level of confidence I didn’t have before. Well, that and a better understanding of what advice to take and what to leave alone and why. You have the contacts, as has already been mentioned. You can already get crits from the folks who’d be most likely to help you. The confidence, I gather, not everyone gets out of Clarions. I hear some folks come out unable to write for a few years after.
Go ahead and apply, sure. But I really don’t think you need Clarion. I don’t think anyone *needs* it. It’s awfully nice, if you can afford the money and the time, but plenty of folks haven’t gone and have done great. And plenty of folks have gone and not done much of anything after.