Methodology.
If you’re writing, you’re a writer. Write like you’re a goddamn death row inmate and the governor is out of the country and there’s no chance for a pardon. Write like you’re clinging to the edge of a cliff, white knuckles, on your last breath, and you’ve got just one last thing to say, like you’re a bird flying over us and you can see everything, and please, for God’s sake, tell us something that will save us from ourselves. Take a deep breath and tell us your deepest, darkest secret, so we can wipe our brow and know that we’re not alone.
— Alan Watts (borrowed here from The Chilmark Writing Workshop)
Creators say that we stand on the shoulders of giants, and for JB, one such gentle giant is Nancy Slonim Aronie, the brilliant human behind The Chilmark Writing Workshop.
We can always find workshops to shred our work, play the skeptic, and find myriad, stinging faults (even in the spirit of constructive criticism). It’s much harder to find a warm group of writers to maintain safe space for us to explore vulnerability; encourage us to use our strengths and to shout down the droning inner critic; and celebrate our progress, no matter the pace. Nancy is an award-winning author and speaker—from serving as a commentator on NPR’s All Things Considered to writing a weekly column for McCall’s Magazine to teaching for Harvard University. As the founder of The Chilmark Writing Workshop on Martha’s Vineyard, Nancy brings together groups of strangers, including published authors and first-time writers, and holds space for them to write and discuss their craft without fear of judgment or retribution.
Her rule is radical, but simple: we don’t tear each other down.
We are all storytellers. The only difference between you and me is context, just a matter of detail. Our stories are both uniquely our own and universally shared. Fact: we are more alike than we are different.
When JB first studied with Nancy, thanks to Kripalu, she witnessed a loving sangha of strangers arise from nothing. Each day, the group responded to Nancy’s new prompt; each day, its members held space for the others to explore the outer bounds of their creativity, to make mistakes and take risks, and to be loved nonetheless. The energy in the room was exhilarating. Day after day, the group’s members loved each other more in that safe space. The writing improved exponentially. In homage to Nancy and her radically kind method, the Sagadahoc Writers’ Sangha intentionally creates space for new and seasoned writers alike to exercise their deepest creative instincts without fear of judgment or destruction. The fount of creativity is, after all, love—love for the craft, love for language’s nuances, love for the subjects of our stories, love for the universality of our themes—and a “beloved community” celebrates us all.