Now If You Were Teaching Creative Writing, He Asked, What Would You Tell Them?

Image by Ron Galella

Last week, the semester finally began in Israel (after being postponed due to the war) and I met my new students. In these first meetings, like on a first date, I’m often excited but also apprehensive. I’m afraid the students will think that writing really is something you can learn in a classroom. I always make a point of explaining, right at the beginning, that for me a writing workshop is more like an AA meeting than vocational instruction. It’s a support group for strange people who think the ideas that pop into their minds could be of any interest to someone else. When I frame things this way, it makes me a lot calmer and I become a fountain of insights and tips that I’ve accumulated over thirty-seven years of writing.

There’s nothing quite like a screwed-up old guy trying to teach the craft of writing to freshly screwed-up young people. And since we’re on the subject of screwed-up yet insightful old men, here’s a clever poem by a paragon of screwed-up-ness, who stooped to writing long before I was even born. Happy writing!

Intro translated by Jessica Cohen