Hey folks, it's rare around here to hear from anybody but myself unless it's an interview. I think Jeff Parker's essay about George Saunders on Late Night with David Letterman just might be the only other occasion. But, the following post, written by Unbridled Books' novelist, Tara Yellen, 
as suggested by Caitlin Hamilton Summie, seemed to fit right in with the thought process around here. It's her take on mentoring in the writing world - something you don't always read about. Hell, in many cases it doesn't even happen, which is a shame. This was delivered to me a couple of weeks back, so the first two words should take that into consideration:
"Last week, at New Dominion Bookstore in Charlottesville, when I stood up to give the first reading on my book tour, I didn’t have a planned opening speech. Just a few things I wanted to say—thanks to John for the wonderful introduction, thanks to all who came out tonight. Maybe a quick joke about tax day.
Mostly, I was hoping to avoid two things:
1. singing, which I’m always afraid I’ll do when faced with a microphone
and
2. spouting cliché.
I didn’t sing, which is good, because I can’t.
But before I could filter it, there it was:
“I wouldn’t be standing here without you.”
It popped out. I was addressing the writers John Casey and Chris Tilghman, both in the audience, both my professors at the University of Virginia graduate writing program. I wouldn’t be standing here without you. But it wasn’t just a line. Along with other wonderful UVa profs, they’d read my manuscript almost as many times as I had. They guided and coached and coaxed me as I (somehow) extracted a novel from a jumble of character and idea. And there wasn’t just the writing itself that I needed help with. There was finding an agent, navigating the publishing process. Figuring out how to make a living.
I’ve been lucky. All through my life I’ve been able to find mentors, through grade and high school and college, each one of them willing to spend all sorts of time, reading my work, talking “shop.” How do you choose point of view? Is the tense working? I’d visit Tony Ardizzone and Cornelia Nixon’s office hours—a little awed: they were real writers.
I know, there are plenty of books out there that tell writers what to do. Even books that inspire. But there’s something about working with someone who is right there. Someone who listens. Someone who has done it and survived. I think that’s a lot of it.
It’s certainly not all about getting praise.
At the University of Colorado, Lucia Berlin took me into her office and told me to “cut the cute.” She wasn’t smiling. She said I was trying to hard to be clever in my fiction. “Be real,” she said.
I wallowed all the way home. But, that night, I sat down and wrote what would be my first publishable story.
Next workshop, Lucia’s response was short but meaningful: This, she wrote, is not cute.
I think I still have that piece of paper.
I’ve now served as a mentor myself, both as a teacher, and, some years back, as coordinator for the Young Women Leaders Program, a mentoring program sponsored by the UVa Women’s Center and Curry School of Education. The program matches middle school girls with undergraduate woman, and the pairs work in groups to tackle personal and community goals. It was a life-changing experience to see how excited and hopeful these girls became, how they reached their goals—and how the relationship between mentor and mentee is, in fact, symbiotic. The mentors inspired and, as a result, they, themselves, were inspired in their own lives. With their own goals.
It’s the same with teaching writing. It can be exhausting, yes, but there is nothing like seeing that spark, that thrill in someone else, to bring it back to my own work.
I happen to think that there are an infinite number of entrances into the craft of writing. There’s not one lesson plan, one good way to teach. More important than getting across information, is the simple act of engaging others in what you love. I remember watching my teachers hold books as we discussed them—open in their palms, held out a little, as if it took some effort to steady them—as if the books had extra weight from all that packed-in knowledge and adventure. It made me want to read. It made me write.
So, okay, I popped a cliché on my first reading.
Many years ago, a writing mentor of mine told me that something that might otherwise come across as platitude won’t if it’s heartfelt—if you can make it real.
I think that’s true.
And I wouldn’t be here without him."
After Hours at the Almost Home has been available in stores since April 15. For a pdf file of the first two chapters, visit Unbridled's website here.
Here's another guest essay Tara wrote on the subject of mentoring, looking from the other side, at the always wonderful Booksquare!
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