A couple of years ago I was struggling with my memoir, Not of My Making. I knew something was wrong with it. So I read Your Life as Story by Tristine Rainer and used what I learned to revise my book. While I was rewriting my manuscript I learned a local college was offering a four session class on Saturday as part of their continuing education program. With some trepidation I signed up.
Attending the class was a bit of a stretch for me. I had become mildly agoraphobic following my dechurchings. But writing my book was important enough for me to risk joining a class of complete strangers. I decided I would sit in the back of the class removed from everyone. When I arrived I was relieved to find a small lecture hall with desks on risers. I climbed to the top row and took a seat. From that vantage point I could hear and see everyone in the class while remaining isolated. I relaxed a little.
A thin, young woman with black hair entered the room. “Don’t get too comfortable,” she said. “I am going to find a better classroom.” She then left. I hoped she would be unsuccessful. I felt safe where I was. The young woman returned and told us to go upstairs to the room directly above us. I waited for everyone to collect their things and file out before I stood up and followed. The new room appeared smaller. The chairs were arranged in a circle. It would be difficult to be invisible there.
The young woman returned and introduced herself as Hannah R. Goodman. First, she said, we needed to warm up. She asked us all to take off our shoes and stand with our eyes shut. She then led us through a guided meditation. What was I getting myself into, I wondered. I felt uncomfortable. I took some deep breaths. After the meditation Hannah asked us to sit down and write. Several people had trouble with this. “Write what?” someone asked.
“Whatever you want,” she said.
After approximately five minutes, Hannah asked us to share our “warmups.” This wasn’t what I had expected. My heart rate increased. I looked around the room to see if escape was possible. I would have to walk across the room in front of everyone. Hannah said we could pass if we wanted to. I considered this but I was there to learn, wasn’t I? I took a deep breath and read. It wasn’t so bad. Hannah made some positive comments about everyone’s work. Hannah then began talking about writing from the body. I groaned. It sounded like a strange mix of yoga and New Age mumbo jumbo. This is hokey. I won’t be coming back, I thought. But I am not the type to waste my money. I wanted to get everything I was promised. So I returned. During the second class I noticed my writing had improved. Something about Hannah’s enthusiasm and acceptance of everyone’s writing had fostered positive growth. So I completed the class and kept signing up every time it was offered. When the college discontinued their continuing education program I hosted a four session class at my house but there wasn’t enough interest to keep the group going. Several weeks after the class ended I received an email from Hannah announcing the start of Saturday classes at the East Bay Chamber of Commerce in Warren, RI. It was the same distance from my home as the college but in the other direction. I signed up immediately.
WheneverI take a class with Hannah I write more often and my skills improve. Her energetic and provocative style challenges and inspires me. Instead of looking for talent she assumes everyone can learn to write well and everyone has something important to say. I hired Hannah to do a content edit of Not of My Making. One of the first things she noticed was that I hadn’t chosen what voice to write my book in. Parts of the book were written in the detached professional style that had been fostered in graduate school while other parts taken from my journal were more emotional. Hannah encouraged me to write in my own voice and to show not tell. It took me a year and a half to finish the recommended revisions but I now have a book that I am proud of.
Thanks, Hannah. You are a great writer instructor, editor and friend.