One of the highlights of this past year was being invited to give a workshop at the Children’s Literature Hawaii Conference in Honolulu. I developed a workshop called The 10 Minute Story.
Sitting down with the intention of writing a full story can be overwhelming. When we take that “big“ story and break it down into 10 minute moments, suddenly it seems less daunting. In 10 minutes you might capture only part of a conversation, a mood, a physical action that triggers a reaction. And when we use doodles and talk bubbles to help tell the story, it becomes fun. The goal was for each participant to leave the room with their story captured in the form of a graphic novel page.
In developing this workshop, I tried the exercise myself and found it deeply satisfying, a quick way to journal. But, could the exercise work with a group that would be all ages, a mix of professionals and attendees who were simply interested in children’s lit?
I emphasized that accepting imperfection is part of the process (thank you to Lynda Barry’s books Making Comics and Syllabus for helping drive that point home to myself). I shared several of my own examples— I had resorted to stick figures in some panels and my handwriting was only legible to myself. But when you looked at the page as a whole, you could see the bones of a story that might be developed in more detail at a later date. Looking at my pages, no one would ever know that I am a “professional”. The stories I shared were very personal, revealing my insecurites—I figured, if I expected participants to share, I had to be willing to share as well. I’m sure some of the participants not familiar with my work were thinking, “You get paid to do this?”
I passed out pencils, pens and paper and let the class loose. The room went silent and my first thought was, “Darn it, I forgot to bring music.” But then I heard the scratching of pencils, people murmuring to themselves and to others as they worked out their stories.
Walking around the room, I witnessed almost everyone in the process of releasing stories onto paper.
Near the session’s end, I asked if there was anyone who wanted to share. The positive response surprised me. There was only time for 3 presentations, so I asked a man in his 70s, a young woman who was about 16, and a young girl who was about 11 to come forward. As each author/illustrator walked us through their graphic panels, the rest of the room “ooohed” and “ahhhed” the genuine appreciation and surprise at each story’s ending a reward for EVERYONE. I say “everyone” because I think there was the realization that each person in the room in capturing 10 minutes from their own life, experiences worth sharing.
I didn’t expect to be so energized by workshop’s results—that energy carrying through to my own creative practice. Whenever I find myself at a standstill, I look back to the class participants who had faith in the process. Just 10 minutes at a time…