Here at Abode Press, we’re all about knocking down the gates, especially for marginalized writers. For this month’s feature, three of Abode’s staff shared their experiences with week-long writing workshops. We hope to use our collective experiences to demystify some things about writing retreats and workshops: the process, the experience, the everything.
But first, let’s get to know our lovely participants:
Diamond Braxton (she/they) is a queer, mixed-race Black-Xicanx writer pursuing an MFA at Texas State. She has work published in Best Microfiction 2023, Sundress Publications’ Best of the Net anthology, The Forge, The Hellebore, and others. She is the Founder of Abode Press, the former Editor in Chief of Defunkt Magazine, and a Copy Editor for Porter House Review. Learn more at www.diamondgizellebraxton.com
C.M. Green (they/them) is a Boston-based writer and theater artist. Their work focuses on history, memory, gender, and religion. They are a Prose Reader for Abode Press. You can find their writing at cmgreenwrites.com
SG Huerta (they/elle) is a queer Xicanx writer from Dallas. They are the Poetry Editor and Managing Editor of Abode Press. They are the author of the chapbooks The Things We Bring with Us (Headmistress Press) and Last Stop (Defunkt Magazine), and their work has appeared in places such as The Offing, Split Lip Magazine, and Infrarrealista Review. Find them at sghuertawriting.com
To get us started, what workshops have you attended?
DB: The workshop I’d love to talk about today is the Lambda Literary Writers Retreat I attended in Philadelphia this year, in August 2023. I was also a part of Tin House’s virtual workshop in the summer of 2021.
CG: I attended the Story Board Workshop at Story Studio in Chicago in August of 2023.
SGH: In January 2023, I attended my first big writers’ workshop outside of school. I was part of Marcelo Hernandez Castillo’s nonfiction cohort during the Roots. Wounds. Words. Virtual Retreat for Storytellers of Color.
What genre or cohort were you in?
DB: For Lambda, I was in the speculative fiction cohort with K-Ming Chang, and at Tin House, I was a part of the Fiction cohort with Ivelisse Rodriguez.
CG: I was in the fiction cohort with Asali Solomon.
SGH: Though I consider myself a poet through and through, I was in Marcelo Hernandez Castillo’s nonfiction cohort (aka poets-in-disguise).
This is a follow up for Diamond, since you’ve experienced both in-person and virtual workshops. How did the experiences differ?
DB: While I believe Tin House created an unmatched online workshop experience, nothing beats fully immersing ourselves in a writing space with talented peers. At Lambda, we would spend our mornings attending our 3-hour workshops, during the day we could attend panels, and at night, we had fellow readings and social events. It truly felt like a retreat experience and allowed for more one-on-one connection building with other fellows. While the online retreat experience is powerful, sometimes it feels like writers are limited to only befriending those within their cohorts, and attending the retreats in person opens the door to meeting everyone.
How did you choose which workshop(s) to apply to?
DB: Ultimately, I couldn’t decide if I should apply to Lambda’s Fiction or Speculative Fiction workshops, but I decided to apply for Speculative Fiction for several reasons: I wanted to study under one of my favorite authors, K-Ming Chang; I wanted to be in a space that focused on speculative fiction since I don’t have access to that in my current MFA program; the collection I’m working on has genre-bending work that I felt K-Ming Chang and my peers could specifically help me with since many of us wrote within the same realm of blurring the lines between the real and the fantastic.
CG: I actually saw Chen Chen tweeting that he would be teaching the poetry cohort at this workshop. I don’t write a lot of poetry, but I considered his presence a pretty good endorsement, and when I looked into the fiction cohort, I was excited to work with Asali Solomon.
SGH: Before RWW, I’d only applied to Tin House once (for poetry) and Lambda once (for nonfiction). I got waitlisted for nonfiction with Edgar Gomez in 2022, and that gave my poet ass the confidence to apply for RWW. I had never been in a writing space that was solely for BIPOC before. I saw a few writers that I greatly admire talk about RWW in a positive light.
Also the faculty was incredible. C.M.’s response is great, because Chen Chen’s presence at RWW was a big part of why I applied, too! I also love(d) Marcelo’s work and thought a fellow queer Latinx poet would be able to help me make sense of my lyrical vignettes.
Do you have any takeaways or tips for the application process?
DB: The application process may feel tedious, but ultimately, every part of your application is crucial to being selected to attend. It’s important that you respond to each prompt to the best of your ability and submit a manuscript that reflects the quality of your work but will also make the workshop leader want to work with you. Meaning, you do not need to send a perfect manuscript. The point of the portfolio (for most retreats at least) is to send something 1) that you are proud of 2) that reflects the caliber of your work and 3) is something that while isn’t perfect, is something a mentor would want to work with you on.
CG: Like most things in the writing world, there is an element of luck and numbers. The more things you apply for, the more likely you are to be selected. I received my acceptance letter for Story Board one day after I received my rejection letter for Lambda. On the other hand, you don’t need to apply to countless workshops just for the sake of applying–that is to say, it’s okay to be a little choosy. Apply as often as is feasible for you, but make sure the investment of time and (usually) money is worth it to you.
SGH: Do not do as I do… I’m kind of great at procrastinating. If you need a fee waiver, ask for it, and ask early. No shame in asking for help when you need it! I keep a folder of everything I’ve ever applied for it is so so helpful to be able to pull from successful applications, and reflect on what I could have written better. And of course, don’t self reject.
How did you prepare for the week leading up?
DB: What was nice about the Lambda retreat is that they created a Slack channel for fellows to join where the staff would post announcements to help us prepare for the week ahead. That allowed us to mingle with other fellows before even landing in Philadelphia for the Retreat and made us feel comfortable knowing that we were prepared for what we needed to know before arriving.
CG: To be honest, I had a very hectic few weeks before I left for Chicago, and I didn’t do much in the way of preparation at all. I didn’t even read my cohort-mates’ stories before I got there–I read them all in a coffee shop in Chicago! I wouldn’t say this is the best way to do things, but maybe it will reassure someone that even if life is crazy and you don’t have much time to prepare, you could still attend a workshop like this.
SGH: I reread my favorite parts of Children of the Land, Marcelo’s memoir. I read my cohorts’ pieces and tried (and failed) not to let imposter syndrome in. I deep-cleaned my writing area, refilled my meds, and made sure my favorite Modern Baseball hoodie and candles were in easy reach. I made sure to finish all my copywriting deadlines before the week started!
For Diamond and C.M.: what’s on your must-pack list?
DB: Bring blankets, pillows (I brought a Malcolm the Mushroom squishmallow (real ones know)), and snacks! Sometimes it’s hard to be in a new place if you don’t have a car, so coming prepared for late-night snacks and extra blankets is a must. The beds are usually college dorm beds, so they are not super comfortable, and I’d highly suggest bringing anything to help with comfortability levels. Also, if you’re going in the Summer, make sure to bring sunscreen and bug spray!
CG: Definitely check the weather ahead of time. It poured rain in Chicago, and I didn’t even bring a jacket. Bring a water bottle–being in workshop for hours is more tiring than you might think, and it pays to stay hydrated. Don’t bring too many books, because if you’re in a new city, you probably will end up buying some from whatever local bookstore you find.
DB: Echoing, C.M. here. Definitely check the weather, especially if you’re going somewhere on the other side of the Nation. And even if it’s going to be super hot, bring a jacket just in case. The dorms can get COLD.
How did you decide what to workshop?
DB: Since I’m working on a collection of stories, I decided to bring in the next story I was working on for my collection that I also felt could use the most help. In my MFA program, we’re not trained to deal with speculative work, so I felt that the speculative fiction cohort should be the first to have eyes on my haunted house story before bringing it into workshop at the MFA program. Sometimes, feedback can try to push a piece in a certain direction, and I wanted to ensure that didn’t happen with this one and felt a speculative fiction cohort could ensure the piece was handled with care.
CG: I picked a short story that I had spent some time editing, but I knew needed more. It was a story that I didn’t quite know what to do with, even though I knew it wasn’t complete. I think selecting a piece of yours where the idea is really solid, but the execution needs more help, is probably the way to go. I think the critiques you can get on execution are going to be much more actionable and exciting than critiques on the premise or idea of the story/essay/poem.
SGH: When I got accepted to RWW, I felt super intimidated by the page maximum! I love reading and writing nonfiction, but most of my pieces at the time were flash or even micro. So, I started just putting all my pieces in one document. By divine intervention perhaps, I realized that all the different pieces were linked in some way or another, even the speculative piece I’d recently written. I tentatively titled my 5000 words “Grief & Its Fucked Up Manifestations.”
If your workshop was for a particular demographic, how did this differ from other spaces you’ve been in?
DB: My workshop was very queer and diverse. Since it’s Lambda, everyone that attends is queer and to experience the breadth of diversity was an added layer of much needed representation in the writing world. This shared sense of identity allowed us to workshop each other’s pieces with a profound sense of care and understanding. Because we all could relate to each other’s work on some level, the workshop experience felt healing and therapeutic in a way. There weren’t any weird feelings such as “How am I going to defend my work if people don’t get it? Or, is my work going to make people uncomfortable because of its queerness, or its discussions on race?” Because the space was inclusive and diverse, those questions never went through my head, and I felt…safe. I felt my work was understood to a degree I’ve never experienced in my life, and it truly was a magical experience.
SGH: The worst thing about spending seven straight years in academia was how white supremacist it is. Universities and colleges were specifically created to keep people like me out, so it’s no wonder I didn’t belong. I almost quit writing entirely several times. Like many places in the US, academia is downright hostile for queer people of color.
RWW is specifically for storytellers of color, and I am so glad I put my heart out there and applied. And sooo many of us were multiply marginalized, queer, disabled, neurodivergent, and all sorts of other beautiful things. To echo Diamond, I just felt so damn safe. Seen. Understood. And I felt like I could offer that to others, too. Marcelo put it best in our first meeting, and I’ll try to summarize it here: instead of starting at point A in our writing, we can just jump to point C because we don’t have to legitimize or contextualize our experiences for fellow writers of color. I learned that there are people who will accept and even love me for all of me, the me who is Xicanx, disabled, obsessive, queer, trans, goofy, bilingual, vulnerable. Because of RWW, I know I will never stop writing. I will never stop showing up for my community.
How was your day-to-day experience? The good, the bad, the everything
DB: I think I covered the day-to-day in an earlier response, but ultimately, you start with workshop where the workshop leaders give a craft lesson before hopping into workshop. Then, you have the option to attend panels the retreat provides, from agent talks to discussions on craft. At night, we had our daily fellow readings where 20 fellows would read from their work, and after that, we had our social events, everything from karaoke to bingo to a bonfire night. What I appreciated about Lambda is that they worked to make the Retreat a hybrid experience, so if you wanted to attend a panel but really needed to rest, you could watch the panel on Zoom from your dorm room. The hybridity of the retreat allowed us to navigate correctly when we had a few cases of Covid because we could move things remotely and Lambda did a really great job of ensuring cases didn’t rise by implementing masks, contact tracing, and providing free Covid tests. I really really appreciate the hard work the staff put into ensuring the Lambda experience wouldn’t be tainted by being a mass spreader of Covid, since there are other Retreats that do not provide the same amount of care.
CG: Overall, I had an excellent experience. As someone without much workshopping experience in a setting like this, I wasn’t sure what to expect. We led each workshop with open questions about the piece, and I found that approaching the work from a place of curiosity generated interesting discussions. My cohort also grew pretty close, often getting meals together. While being with so many people can be overwhelming, I enjoyed the chance to talk with people in my cohort one-on-one as well.
SGH: My day-to-day, summarized:
Wake up
Put on sweats and either a comfy shirt or the themed outfit
Make coffee, light a candle, make sure my laptop charger is nearby!!
Set an intention for the day
Triple-check timezones!!
Workshop
Craft panel
Lots of breaks from my laptop!
Faculty or fellows reading
Affinity groups or slack messaging (though we were usually all wiped out from the day!)
A follow-up for C.M.: Was the workshop MFA-centric? Some literary spaces can feel gatekeep-y for this reason.
CG: Only two out of ten people in my cohort were in MFAs–one was just about to start her first year, and one was in a low-residency program. There was a lot of conversation about how and when other folks might apply for MFAs, which honestly made me feel some pressure to think about grad school, even though I know it’s probably not right for me. However, Asali was really clear that you don’t need an MFA to do this work, and that not everyone should try to get one, and that was encouraging.
What’s a favorite memory or highlight from the event?
DB: Aside from the entire retreat experience being one of the most impactful highlights of my life, my favorite memory is the bonfire night. Lambda set up several campfires for fellows to roast marshmallows and mingle. There was a full moon, and the Retreat was being held at Chapel Hill, a private Catholic college in the suburbs of Philadelphia. Meaning, the campus was absolutely gorgeous and weird, and fittingly enough, our dorms were right next to a nun cemetery, which some would argue are our queer ancestors. That night, something loosened amongst the Retreat staff and created a sense of liberation and carefreeness, as Jeanne Thornton, the fearless Fiction workshop leader, led us on a cemetery tour where we told ghost stories and came together as fellows. I consider that night the evening where everyone came together, released their shyness, and created a unique bond between all of us that carried through the rest of the retreat. I’ll always remember that night fondly.
CG: Asali Solomon gave a craft talk called “The Craft Talk at the End of the World,” which addressed how and why to write when the world is ending around us. It’s a question I often have but try to ignore, so being forced to address it head on, and then come up with the answer that we must write anyway, was both affirming and invigorating. That talk, as well as other conversations with Asali and our cohort, has given me new urgency around my work.
SGH: The closing celebration was truly beautiful. If you know me, you know that I am a big cry baby. So throughout the whole thing, I couldn’t stop crying. I was sad, yes, that the week was ending, but I was also so damn moved. So damn excited for the brightest of futures ahead of me.
(How) did your work change afterwards?
DB: After the retreat, I learned to trust my work and my confidence in being a genre-bendy writer. I was reaffirmed by my cohort that my work felt right, the choices made sense (as weird as they were), and that the work I was creating was holding up to my intentions. I learned to trust myself more as a writer and to be proud of the work I’m producing.
CG: It’s a little soon to say, but I think my approach to revision is changing! Between conversations about revision itself, and the way we workshopped each piece, I have new ideas and strategies. What was once a thing I dreaded is now something I’m excited to explore.
SGH: Hell yes to genre-bending, Diamond! My genre and gender are equally elusive. Our cohort really leaned into that vibe.
Like C.M., I also learned a lot of great revision techniques! I even gained some confidence? To my surprise, a few people in my cohort said that my 5000 or so words could be a chapbook. So, I’m happy to say, it is now a revised chapbook with a better title looking for a home! I even had this essay from it published in Bodega.
How did you feel afterwards? How did you cope with going back to the “real world”?
DB: Coming back to the real world is harder than I expected. At the retreat, I kept hearing about something called “post-retreat depression,” which is exactly as it sounds. When you’re a queer writer of color like me, and you find yourself in a place like Lambda where everyone is almost a reflection of you and there’s no hate or judgment, it can be very jarring to go back home where the world is not like that. The first two weeks being back were extremely difficult, and then I started the second year of my MFA program, and that brought me out of the funk I was in because I had to focus on school, but it wasn’t an easy transition. Thankfully, I keep in touch with my cohort through our Discord chat, and a lot of the fellows are connected on socials, so we still talk, but it’s not the same as having everyone in the same city at the same place at the same time. But I’m thankful to have met everyone that I did, and that they will remain in my life forever.
CG: It’s definitely an adjustment–day one back at work I thought, is this really how I’m spending my time? But what I actually did, on my first day back in Boston, was meet up with a writing friend and do some serious goal setting. We planned out what our next year will look like, writing-wise, and how we hope to achieve those goals. It felt good to bring my excitement from the workshop and marry it to the reality of my life and time commitments, and come up with something ambitious but doable.
SGH: Like I said, I cried my weight in tears when it ended. It was really hard to go back to school a couple weeks after and get microaggressed by people who don’t get my work!
But I also realized I’m not alone in a lot of my experiences. I trust myself a lot more. I have faith in community building.
About a month after the retreat concluded, our cohort started holding workshops every two weeks. I trust this group with my life. I’m changed because I know my RWW fam.
Thank you for joining us for this roundtable! Of course, retreats are not necessary to be a writer. But they can be a great way to network with other writers and have a moment to fully focus on your craft without hectic life in the background.
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Abode Press is an intersectional, anti-racist 501(c)3 nonprofit publishing press dedicated to uplifting underrepresented voices.