> Seriously. I -did- a few classes in the past and found them to be > pretty useless. Too concerned with teaching nuts'n'bolts. Too > concerned with rules and commercial writing. Too closed. I suspect that your level of satisfaction will vary with the teacher. I've been in workshops run by wonderful writers who also knew very well how to teach. I've also been in the opposite situation, where the teacher is better at teaching than at writing, but learns to be a better writer by the process of teaching others. (That is a funny circumstance to stumble into, and if you are able to be observant about it, you can learn tremendously from the experience, because it helps you realize that teachers who write develop their skills too, if they are truly writers themselves; I have never met a person who is a good teacher of writing but a terrible writer.) > Meeting like-minded souls, though, actually was useful. Regardless of > the styles, or intent, or reasons for attending of the others, it was > somehow comforting to be among those similarly afflicted. Now, this is something to be endorsed! When I graduated from college, I was completely broke, and since I come from a family that has no resources of any kind, I knew I had to provide for myself, and that I had to either get a job or do something else. Since I knew that getting a job + writing daily is a taxing, sometimes impossible, situation, I tried applying to grad school -- half-heartedly, I confess. I'm not an academic writer, and a lot of what I do is definitely NOT workshop material. It didn't matter in the end, though. The handful of schools to which I applied turned me down. One sent me a letter that was actually snotty. I don't wish to mention any names, but 8-) it's a school mentioned by Salinger in one of his published works. (That remark is intentionally in the spirit of Bruce Lee's description of his martial-arts style, which he described as "The art of fighting without fighting," and you can go figure which it is, since there aren't many to choose from.) The sole reason an MFA program interested me was that, assuming I could come up with the appropriate scholarships and grants and loans, it would provide me with a safe haven in which I could continue to nurture the talent that was emerging in me. In other words, I was looking for what is still a kind of Holy Grail: the ability to write full-time. Since that didn't work out, I took on one job, then two, then (at one point of extreme poverty) a third, and I've been employed by someone ever since. I'm fortunate that now I only have to work one job with occasional freelance work, but that job still taxes my energy more than I would like. But I have to pay the bills, so that is that. It means that while I continue to write, I can't do it full-time, so progress is very slow, depressingly slow, discouragingly slow. But there is progress in spite of the challenges, and that's what keeps *me* going. As with finding the right workshop teacher, your results may vary. There are some out there who are wonderful. I suspect that we may even have one or two subscribed to this list (you know who you are!), because of the comments and remarks I've heard here. Cheers! --tim o'connor