![]() ![]() So when I say that my first experience of being workshopped at Iowa was violent, I don’t mean to imply that it was also surprising. I put up a story for workshop knowing that this was the sort of place whose students, even almost a decade later, carried with them bruises of having their work split apart. A friend of mine there was a graduate of the workshop from ten years back, and each time we ran into each other at parties, she’d lean back and laugh and tell me what a great time she’d had, and then she’d begin to unspool for me the same five or six negative incidents that had plagued her time here. Before I came to the Writers’ Workshop, I was living in Wisconsin, studying science. I had heard rumors both about the teacher and about the place in general. The first time I workshopped a story at the Iowa Writers’ Workshop was a wholly violent experience, the aftershocks of which still pulse through my life. ![]()
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