Here's another reason why writing workshops are the bomb

If you're like me, you were trained to write a whipping five-paragraph essay in the 9th grade and the format inscribed itself on your DNA by the time you graduated from high school.

And then, if you're like me, you became a writer (of sorts) and started to teach writing, and began to loathe the cockroach almost as much a string of adverbs.

Here's a great post about the subject: "Kill the 5-Paragraph Essay".  I agree with John Warner that the verminous essay has oh so many flaws to it, not the least of which is the fact that no one can really communicate anything to anyone in those 5 robotic paragraphs. The form breeds superficial compliance, that is. Rote thinking.  Rote lack of thinking, I mean. It's a factory for generality and banality. Further, as Warner suggests, it's a form that doesn't think at all about audience or purpose ... and forget about methods.

What we learn, eventually, those of us who read a lot and write a lot, is that writing for an audience is key.  You have to imagine just WHO you're writing for, and then what you want to say or do for that reader.  Only then can you figure out the best way to do that.

I think that's what a good writing workshop can do for you: if you're constantly sharing what you write, then you're forced to think about your audience every time you sit down with pen/pencil and paper (please note the "old school" methodology here, and realize my hypocrisy as I tap this out on my MacBook). You have to imagine what will catch that reader's attention, and hold it. You have to think about the conversations you've been having with them (lately) and how you're going to add to one of them. You have to think about the best way to organize your thoughts or ideas or examples, and (the best part) you usually have to have some crunchy examples to keep their attention.  You have to turn blah blah blah bullshit into an actual steaming pile of steer dung, in other words, complete with the fragrant waft of spring, 3D stink lines marring the crisp air.

A picture vs. my 20 words

So even if you're not going to be a professional writer, or scribble best-selling novels in your laundry room like Stephen King, you can learn how important it is to write coherently, concretely, and compellingly for any given situation (even that freaking essay on Henry James that you've been putting off til the last minute) -- if you take the writing workshop and get over the fear of actual communication.

Ah, the fear of actual communication. That, kiddies, is a topic for another day.