One of the pieces that I’m proudest of was written in college. It was for my Craft of Writing class where we were tasked with writing in different styles. This particular piece was for the Memoir assignment, one to write about a pivotal moment in our lives; the kind that might be viewed with a distinct ‘before’ and ‘after’ it happened. I chose to write about the time one of my best friends kissed me at someone’s birthday sleepover and I realized I was bisexual. It was a really special experience as, when I wrote it, it had been about five years since the kiss had happened and I hadn’t truly processed everything about that time. Having the opportunity to reflect on it and think about how far I’d come was truly a joy for me. The piece got to be a sort of love letter to my past self for doing my best in a very strange and difficult situation.
I wasn’t the only one who liked that piece. My teacher was very encouraging about it and even recommended me to read it at an event in the Calvin art gallery for Valentine’s day. After some back and forth that I wouldn’t have any issues with the explicitly queer content, I did read it and got some really lovely responses from it!
It was a bit of a surprise when someone reached out and asked if they could use my piece for an editor’s workshop. I didn’t know exactly what that would entail but was interested in the idea that something I wrote would be turned into something physical! I said yes and then didn’t really hear much more about it other than a “the event went well and there was even a bidding war for some of the stories!” I had honestly forgotten the entire agreement until the little zines arrived in the mail. I excitedly sat down to look over what they’d done to my piece.
And I did not like it.
I was so disappointed. I read through it twice maybe hoping a second look would reveal something, but no revelation came. It was just not a good version of my story. The package had multiple copies of this little zine of my butchered piece and I just got rid of them. I kept one out of obligation because someone had taken the time to work with my work to make something, even if I really didn’t like it.
I still have it. I reread it after deciding this was going to be my confession. I still really don’t like the choices they made, but in reflection, it might be because they had an impossible task. I’m a wordy writer. I like saying a lot in a space. I like building off of myself and crafting sentences to be just how I want them even if it’s overly elaborate. It’s entirely probable these folks had a word limit that my piece was just never going to bend to fit well. Some of the formatting is interesting—the way they use spacing does build tension in some ways. I won’t lie, though; I saw all that blank space the first time and went, “Where the hell are the rest of my words?”
There is some worry in me that because this piece is so personal I wouldn’t have liked any changes that were made that weren’t just grammatical. Not only is it my writing, but it’s my writing about me and one of the biggest things that’s ever happened in my life. Honestly, I really hope this isn’t the case as I’d like to think I’m a mature enough writer that could handle a suggestion to kill my darlings if the need arose. Ideally, I’d have cut all the portions of the piece myself that I didn’t think were important and useful in my own editing, but if someone really thought something needed to be removed I’d hope I’d be open to the criticism.
The one thing I won’t forgive is the removal of the word ‘Queer.’ I understand that at this Calvin-ordained workshop most of if not all of the people involved were straight, but just because you’re uncomfortable with a word doesn’t mean I am. This is my story about my queer awakening. I don’t care if it makes you squeamish. As an editor, you’re supposed to facilitate my voice, not silence it.
I think that’s probably another reason this went so poorly: there was no communication between me and the editors. Obviously, this was just a workshop done for their edification of skill in editing and formatting a text rather than making my work the best possible version it could be. My involvement in this whole process was aggressively minimal and not done for me, so it tracks that I wouldn’t be fond of the final product.
I’m sure a lot of care and attention was put into this project, the best that these people could give. I’m sure they were doing their best with the circumstances and created something they were proud of. I know no ill will was meant with the work that was put in, and I hope it was a super valuable experience for those involved!
Doesn’t mean I have to like it though.
Sam is unsure what exact words describe them best: Lunatic has been used, Gothic Romantic is apt, and Big ol’ Nerd is reductive but true. Mostly they just like stories in whatever form stories can be found. Sam specializes in Frankenstein, running “The Uncanny Productions” on YouTube, but they also dabble with podcasts, singing, and theatre as well. They have a DVD collection that’s long outgrown its shelf, a coffin they use as a desk, and an unrelenting joy for things that are spooky, ridiculous, or magical.
