Das Boot.

For a month or so before my family and I went on vacation to Cape Cod (more on that later) I was buying books, doing research, writing character bios, and story outlines. I was getting ready to write a novel about the 20th Maine Volunteers. I even interviewed a very nice man named Tom Starr who is in Co. G 20th Maine Volunteers reenacting unit, and read, “Stand Firm Ye Boys from Maine,” by Tom Desjardin on the beach in Dennis.

I was ready. I was excited. I was going to kick ass and take names. A book, I figured, with all of its thousands of words, must be easier to write than a screenplay. As Truman Capote once said, “I have written a stage play, a screenplay, and a novel. Of these the hardest is the screenplay because there is no place to hide.”

I made all these preparations because I had been accepted to the Sackett Street Writers Workshop here in Brooklyn and was looking forward to meeting other writers, adults who did not want to talk about Ferberizing

As my readers – all three of you - will recall my fist installment of B’KlynDad was about the disconnect and isolation parents can feel. I applied to the Sackett Street to get out of that rut and do something I love, write. Better to light a candle as the saying goes.

The class, which was eight people, all received an email with a few attachments, directions etc. The first class was going to “workshop” the first chapter from a book entitled, “Disgrace,” by J.M. Coetzee. As per our directions I read the chapter twice and wrote my response to it both times. It was simple, I thought it was bullshit. The chapter was drab and wordy. It told the reader everything in long expository passages rather than show the reader through dramatized events. I read a book to read a story not be told by the author what is happening.

I was ready. I was excited. I was going to kick ass and take names. Armed with my years of experience and my big mouth I was ready to engage intellectually with mature adults on the subject of writing.

On first sight I was not sure about the instructor Eric. Ever get that feeling? I did. But, hey, we just meet and I’m sure he has something to teach me. As it turns out what he wanted to “teach” me and the rest of the class was that, “Coetzee is brilliant, ‘Disgrace’ is his best work,” and that the first chapter of “Disgrace” was, “bold and automatically made the reader want to read on.” When it came time for us to speak I could see the trepidation on my classmates faces so I spoke up and the words, “I didn’t like it,” came confidently from my mouth. It was on.

Ordinarily as Eric pontificated about “Disgrace” I would have thought, “I’m fucked...” but not anymore. I don’t need others to validate my opinions and Mr. Coetzee’s Nobel Prize doesn’t make him any less esoteric or mean we all have to like him. Still no one really wanted to talk so I tried to get things going by talking about narrative style and things like that. It was a first class and I’m sure my classmates were nervous.

Down on the street, after the Coetzee stroke fest, some of the gals in the class and I started talking. They both thought Eric was “opinionated” and “pushy,” and that they felt that if they didn’t agree with him he was going to be even more so. For some reason I defended him saying it’s good to have a teacher who can challenge you. We all said see you and I walked home over the Gowanas Canal feeling good about myself and the class and the work I was going to be doping over the next few weeks.

The next day I received an email from Eric saying things like, “Tonight your tone overwhelmed the rest of your classmates, and may have even stifled them from expressing themselves,” and, “Dismissive tones can change the dynamic of a workshop, and throw everyone, including me, off.” Last but not least, “…we are willing to offer you a full refund. If you decide to continue with the class, it can only mean that you have absorbed the message of this letter and plan on adjusting yourself accordingly.”

Fuck that. I quit and told him I thought he started the negativity by demanding that we all agree with him. Fuck that.

So much for an adult forum, so, how do you feel about Ferberizing?