We talked about life and found we had a lot in common--and I asked him to read some of my writing. He did. And he responded by saying I had great content and captured the subjects of the pieces well. To the old me, that would have been enough of an ego stroke to satisfy. The guy who teaches Stegner Fellows how to write poetry had told me he thought I was a good poet. But I had changed.
Sensing he was avoiding style, I pressed him on some of the weaknesses in my writing that others had brought up--starting with the lack of musicality. To my everlasting gratitude, this guy did not demur. He unloaded, bluntly and in detail, with genuine critiques.
"Let the music come when it does," was his response to that prompt. He suggested I was trying too hard to achieve that effect and was tending to over-modify in my newer writing. And then he actually gave me exercises to consider. In essence, by not settling for the compliment, I had received a miniature tutorial session from one of the instructors of one of the most prestigious writing programs in the world.
