Writing

• Creating New Works via Prompts and Free Writes
• Workshopping Works in Progress

January 14, 2017 is my turn to host Mujeres at my house. Chin@#$! Que voy a servir?
Twenty-five years of hosting meetings and I still act like it’s the first time. Nervous? A little bit. Unsure? Not really. More than anything, I am just feeling the pressure to be well-prepared because I want to make sure that I do right by my Mujeres. They deserve my best. That means making sure they eat como reinas and that I provide a writing session tan chingona that others would be happy to pay good money to attend. No kidding. Val and I have been attending writing workshops in Tucson for twenty-five years, from the ones at Pima College to the Writing Studio to the University of Arizona Poetry Center, y no se bajan de cien bolas. The University of Arizona Poetry Center even charges a couple hundred dollars for some. Y nosotras–nada. Not only do we not charge for the workshop, we provide all the materials, feedback, and an amazing meal de pilón. 

Back to my meeting, though. The week before, I emailed a reminder to everyone and informed them we would not be generating new material, instead we would workshop our obras. That requires some prep for everyone attending. It also means that each one would be going home with precious feedback from five of the biggest chingonas en las letras! Here’s the email:

Feliz 2017, Comadres!

Espero hayan recibido el año nuevo sanas, salvas, y en compañía de todos sus seres más queridos. Y agárrense fuerte, Mujeres, porque hay que estar listas para todo. Empezamos el sábado a las 12:30 en mi casita. Por favor traigan 3 pages max of prose, double-spaced, Times New Roman 12 point or 2 pages max of poetry, single-spaced, also Times New Roman 12 point.

Abrazos para todas,
Maria-Elena

Listo. Now, it is time to plan the menu for our first meeting of the New Year. Everyone is sure to have gained the weight of a small child with all the tamales, champurrado, y buñuelos of the holidays. Time for something clean and fresh, just like the Mediterranean people eat. Pesto crusted salmon, Greek quinoa salad, vino, y para no perder la costumbre, cafecito con pastel. Perfect. La quinoa salad has to be made the night before, so ahÍ estoy cociendo la quinoa en caldo de pollo y picando todas las verduras que compré en el Food City. I like doing this late at night because I can release my day and focus only on the prep, si no, me mocho un dedo. Qué Zen.

Once the salad is done, it is time to prepare for the writing session. I review the “Critical Friends Tuning Protocol” developed by Joseph McDonald and David Allen and used by the School Reform Initiative. I introduced this process in 2013 to Mujeres because the model uses cooperative adult learning techniques to deepen professional relationships and encourage a reflective practice. As an educator for thirty years, I used this model to lead an English Department where teachers were used to closing the door to the classroom and working in isolation. Not many teachers asked for or gave feedback to their colleagues–that was a task for the principal in charge of evaluating them. Much like teachers at department meetings, the Mujeres were initially uncomfortable with the idea of pinpointing issues of concern in a compañera’s writing. They were great at providing feedback that was positive and supportive. However, the constructive feedback was mostly missing. And it was understandable because prior to adopting this protocol, the meetings were focused solely on generating new material, reading the piece, and offering encouraging words directly to the writer. Even under the best of circumstances, it is difficult to raise an issue or, in some cases, a host of issues directly with the writer who is struggling. This “Tuning Protocol” however, helps by removing the writer from the discussion and limiting her to note-taker status only. This builds in the distance needed for the others to more comfortably discuss the piece thoroughly and objectively. It has taken much practice and reminders, but we are much better now at providing the very specific feedback that is the most useful to the development, revision, and editing stages of our work.

The protocol uses time limits and norms to reduce interruptions and maximize the benefit of this very structured way of talking shop. Some Mujeres find this level of structure quite challenging and uncomfortable. With a few modifications to the original Critical Friends Tuning Protocol, this is our process for workshopping:

1. Reading (not timed)

   The writer reads her piece while the others follow along with their copy. 

2. Examination of Work (10 minutes)

Participants look closely at the work and mark up the copy with their comments. They focus on the elements of fiction or poetry as required by the piece. Participants do this work silently. The author does not participate.

3. Warm and Cool Feedback (10 minutes)

Participants share their comments with the group while the writer is silent. The session begins with five minutes of warm feedback, moves to five minutes of cool feedback and then moves back and forth between warm and cool. Warm feedback includes comments with specific examples about what we found powerful, well-developed, and interesting. Cool feedback includes identifying areas that we find to be problematic, confusing or underdeveloped. The writer is silent and does not participate. She only takes notes. This part can be tricky because in addressing the work, we must see it as separate from the writer. Invariably, someone will be tempted to speak directly to the writer and will be reminded that the writer is not allowed to participate in this part of the process. 
The structure can take some getting used to.

4. Writer’s Reflection (5 minutes) 

The writer speaks to the feedback she chooses while participants are silent. This is not a conversation or time to defend herself, but is instead a time for the writer to reflect aloud on those ideas or questions that seemed particularly interesting. Warning: by this time in the process, the desire for unstructured conversation can be so great that some participants may even interrupt the writer in the middle of her reflection. Here again, the facilitator will need to intervene and remind the participants that they are not allowed to interrupt the writer in this part. Sometimes, it feels a little like herding cats.

That night, I don’t sleep. Primero, porque me acuesto tarde haciendo la quinoa y después porque el vino que me tome temprano, ya se me hizo metabolize and turned to sugar, so I might as well have had a cup of coffee before going to bed. Chin@#$%

12:20 p.m. Tan-tan….Los perros hear the knocking and go nuts, but once they smell Valerina at the gate, the barking turns to squeals of excitement. They love Mujeres Que Escriben. I serve everyone a glass of wine y brindamos to a new year. While I am busy plating, Pedrito Martinez is playing salsa, the Mujeres are catching up after the holidays and the dogs are ecstatic. The hummus disappears by the time lunch is served. The pesto salmon is gorgeous, the quinoa salad preciosa, y la botella de vino que nunca falta en la mesa.
Salud!

Around the table, we talk about upcoming events. The Almodóvar film “Julieta” is coming to the Loft Cinema and we decide to go Sunday. David Tineo, the Chicano artist, is having his opening at the University of Arizona Museum of Art the week after that. “Vamos pues, ya era tiempo,” Silviana said. No kidding. Then, there is a reading at the University of Arizona Special Collections featuring Patricia Preciado Martin, Denise Chavez and Stella Pope Duarte. The new year bodes well for Latino artists in Tucson. Again, salud!

I remind everyone of the protocol and time constraints. After the writer reads her piece, we have ten minutes to do a close reading of the text, circling key words, underlining special phrases, and writing comments in the margins. When the timer goes off, we have another ten minutes to share our warm and cool feedback. Finally, we have five minutes for the Writer’s Reflection. Usually, these workshops last about 30 minutes per person. 

Mariel reads an excerpt from the prologue to The Oracle of the Delphi and the Seven Amazons: A Contemporary Epic. The piece is a love letter from Eranna to Sappho filled with the bittersweet difficulty of having a lover in exile. The imagery is stunning, the characters familiar, and the theme of lovers being separated all too real. A few weeks later in an interview on the benefits and challenges of writing workshops, Mariel reflects on how grateful she is for the feedback that recognizes she has become quite skillful at using poetic tools. She considers the most useful feedback to be the one that helps her figure out if she is going in the right direction, where the holes are, and the discussions around philosophical issues that clarify the theme. She is especially grateful that the workshopping process allows her to see herself as in a mirror. “Wow,” she says. “They really read it, they really see me. I’m visible.” At the end, Mariel emphasizes the tremendous confidence builder that workshopping has become for her. 

Still, the workshopping model has its challenges and none bigger than the fear of offending a compañera. Before moving to the living room for the workshop, occasionally, someone will forget to take off her personal hat de comadre and put on the business hat de writer, de professional. When either the writer or the participants discussing the work have not made the transition from friend to business, it is difficult to give feedback that is useful, objective, and thorough. Instead, what results are useless comments lacking in specificity intended only to stroke the ego. 

Valerina Quintana reads Adobita, a children’s story about a little adobe house in the vast Sonoran Desert who decides to throw a party at the end of the summer monsoon. It is a fable with all the elements that we expect: personification of each character, characters’ problems, characters doing something clever or foolish and a lesson learned. In the interview a few days later, she reflects on the value and the challenges of workshopping this piece. She admits that “it is really nice to hear” people discuss her use of descriptive language and that it is eye-opening that Adobita reads as a children’s story because she was “simply writing from this point of view.” She also enjoys the Writer’s Reflection at the end because it gives her an opportunity to clarify or answer questions that she may need to consider upon revision. But there are challenges as well. Trying to take contemporaneous notes of a discussion when she is trying to really pay attention is not easy. And comments such as I love it! are not especially helpful. “People need to say why something connects with them; otherwise, what can I do with it,” she says. Then, there are times when people do not read carefully and comment on what they misread. Finally, sometimes, people forget that it is not their writing, it is hers and they want it to read the way they want it to read. Still, she feels that this process has made her a better listener and the marked-up copies she takes home are priceless as they allow her to review the comments more thoroughly later. 

Silviana reads Groaking, a story about a little boy from the barrio who writes an essay and wins a free trip to the circus. The voices are powerful, the characters vivid, and the issues of poverty and gentrification all too familiar. In the interview, she reflects on the value and the challenges of workshopping this piece. Silviana points out that when warm feedback is specific, it reinforces what she is trying to do. It helps her focus and validates what she does well, ultimately strengthening her writing. The challenges for her come when the questions indicate that she should go in a different direction or when comments are vague, ambiguous or fluff. While “brilliant as always” sounds good, it is not helpful. In the end, however, she reflects on her love of revising and quotes French essayist and poet Paul Valery, “A poem is never finished, only abandoned.” She ends with gratitude for the kinship we share, the honoring of each other’s words/works, and her belief that “writers… I have to believe we’re special.” 

Months before my turn to host, I torture myself with what meal to prepare. It becomes homework, looming overhead. My Mujeres are my guinea pigs. Food wise, I have experimented on them countless times over the more than two decades that we have been writing together.  Every main course that crosses my path is under scrutiny and consideration, every dessert, hors d’oeuvres and beverage. Pages of recipes are strewn across my counter. Is this the musing of a mad gourmet cook? I am not an avid cook, but I am a great collector of recipes: salads/soups, main courses, desserts, even licuados and smoothies. Volumes of recipes collected over the years are archived with the sole intent of enticing me to enhance my limited culinary skills.

Perusing through these recipes for just the right one, I am reminded of what a friend once told me, “If you can read, you can cook.” Alas, as literate as I am, the recipes remain in a file to be opened only when extremely necessary. I do realize that food brings people together, that it is the common denominator in any community or culture. I console myself knowing that at least I have the recipes for when I prepare a meal for others.

Sifting through main meal recipes is only part of my research. Is it sad that I refer to meal planning as research? Well, ni modo for this cook. My mind wanders to the bebida. What to drink? This is December, so it should be easy–hot mulled apple cider, eggnog, and jamaica. Stashed in a huge jar in my cupboard is a cache of jamaica blossoms from a local Mexican supermarket. Blossoms, hot water, sugar and ice create a stunning ruby color for the holiday season. One of our wine connoisseurs will bring, well, you guessed it, wine.After reviewing my countless recipes, on this day I settle for simple–a meal of crockpot lemon chicken breast with garlic, onion, spices, fresh squeezed lemon juice (from my lemon tree), carrots and potatoes. Butter lettuce salad and cherry tomatoes with homemade lemon vinaigrette. For dessert, something for the chocoholics–from the New York Times–a chocolate flourless cake.

The recipe states, “It is important that not one speck of egg yolk remain in the egg whites, or they will not whip properly.” Oh, no! A bit of yolk has slipped into the egg whites. Well, I will just have to see if it is really true…Noted as part of my research, when it is time for dessert, the cake is light, rich and not ruined by the speck of yolk. I serve Mexican sugar and canned milk with my cafecito of choice, piñon coffee, the deep aroma which always reminds me of my hometown in southern Colorado.

At the same time that I consider what food will nourish my Mujeres, I am also thinking of the prompt. Will it be easy to understand? Will it be a good writing exercise? I want my instructions to be clear and concise, so I review them from beginning to end.

As we gather at the table, I give each of the Mujeres three strips of paper on which to write:

First strip: Who + Adjective.

Second strip: Verb + Object.

Third strips: Why + phrase.

I scramble all the strips onto the table and ask everyone to choose three. “Write from these strips,” I say, “and add a color.”

Someone asks, “Can we include an animal instead of a person?” The answer is no, but the Mujeres will do what they want anyway. Siempre hay un rebelde.

Mujeres Que Escriben – Meeting
A writer with a passion for words, rhythm, savory flavors, and Afro-Cuban steps never falls short when it comes to feeding her adored comadres. When I host the Mujeres Que Escriben gathering, my mischievous twin—la chef privada, esqueleto dancing a guaracha—chops cebollas, minces garlic, and slices red and green bell peppers for the sofrito the night before. I summon Abuela Felicia’s enchilado de mariscos, Mami’s ropa vieja, or Tía Rosita’s steaming ajiaco. The aroma and taste of Cuba feed my longings.

Cooking is the art of blending ingredients, colors, textures, and spices into something more flavorful than the sum of its parts. Writing is the same—an alchemy of words. As Latina writers, we strive to offer readers the umami of our mestiza heritage, crafting sentences that evoke the perfect pairing: a glass of sangria with savory paella, or a rosemary margarita flirting with a Sonoran hot dog. Writing is an intimate plurality, where the artist seduces, provokes, incites, and enamors—just as a chef conquers the discerning palate of a seasoned gourmet.

When I host at my little casita, se trata de consentir a mis queridas comadres. Forget potlucks—eso es cosa de flojos. In our sacred food-prep ritual, crunchy vegetables turn translucent when done. By the kitchen counter, I scribble menu items on my laptop: scallop ceviche, arepas rellenas con fricasé de pollo, frijoles negros con arroz blanco, and plátano maduro acaramelado—something sweet, something hot. Then I shift to the writing prompt.

As I plate the feast, with the force of los vientos alisios, the comadres enter the house repartiendo abrazos, risas, escándalo y mua-muas. Corks pop, and robust cabernet makes its rounds. Cuentos leap from the kitchen counter to the living room, where we gather before La Frida’s altar. And just like the alisios bend with the earth’s rotation, our topics detour—we chat about este, esta, el otro, y la otra while we eat.

The writing prompt consisted of a multilayered approach. The theme was ritual.

1. Pick an engraved stone and in a positive way weave its opposite meaning into the Story. For instance, if you pick the stone with the word grace, use its opposite in your writing –stiffness, interference, obstacle.
2. Select a card either from the animal medicine deck or the Mexican divination deck and incorporate its meaning into the writing.

Each Mujer picked their chosen symbols. We wrote for forty-five minutes.

After the writing session concluded, Maria Elena, our official barista made cafecito and we sang happy birthday to Silviana. At the table, we took turns reading our new bebecitos entre sorbos de café and Valerina’s chocolate fudge cake.

Silviana delighted us with a trip back in time to her childhood in Barrio Anita, one of Tucson’s historic gems where el diablo meant the opposite of what we usually understand. Maria Elena delivered a succulent piece deconstructing the concept of beauty with a knife instead of a pen. Valerina offered a window into the hunting season. I offered a eulogy dedicated to my mother’s strength.

I start preparing for the MQE monthly meeting a week or so in advance, slowly gathering my thoughts about what might be fun to do together. It always starts with the food for me. What flavors does the season and the energy of the day call for? I love salads for this group because they always notice and appreciate the care that goes into choosing a perfectly in-season item or combination that makes both ingredients sing, both better than they can be apart. The joy on their faces when they taste a dish I’ve prepared is a reward in itself. But, I may also get some pizza from Time Market if I oversleep or Friday night goes sideways. Such is life, and the Mujeres understand and give each other grace without a second glance or side eye. I am a better writer and, more importantly, a better person for the durable guidance and gentle reminders when I need them, and I will be made stronger for it. Cooking for this group of comadres gives me such a thrill. They are a good eating group. Despite having particular dietary needs, they always make the most of what they can taste and enjoy. I have learned a lot from watching them laugh, chat, and enjoy my food selections or creations over the years. We share a love of food, life, and words like the encantations that they are, blessing our work and each other with each bite, story, and spell. 

For our January session, I decided to make lasagna and a simple salad, and dessert consisted of a pink box of pan dulce and empanadas (and a cochito, of course) from La Estrella. 

Why Lasagna? 

There was a chill in the air as I considered my dish, and cold always makes me seek comfort. I love lasagna (and any casserole, really), but there’s something truly special about Lasagna (and Enchiladas) that gives me an exceptional warmth and good feelings. I also love to serve meals family-style whenever possible, so folks can take the amounts that work for them. Depending on the setting, I love to serve a table family-style and not clear away dishes and platters right away, so that diners can savor the meal over meandering conversations and recollections. Sobre mesa, with ease and knowing that what happens around your table is the stuff of life. That slow meal eating always makes me feel like we have co-created a cauldron for memory creation– the languishing meals of holidays and stolen weekends or evenings that we never want to end. Also, there is something delightful about sharing the little bits and pieces you have frozen or in the fridge. 

For this meal, I had various cheeses and veggies, along with a bit of pesto, so the end product was chock-full of flavors rather than just the bechamel and bolognese that I also love to create. This lasagna for the mujeres had a bit of chopped kale, the spinach and eggplant that I wanted to highlight and then two carrots from the last week’s farmers market that I shredded, a yellow onion that was diced small and sautéed with grated garlic and a salt packed anchovy, and finished with a couple small squashes that I cubed and seasoned, roasted in olive oil and let sit a bit in the cooling oven upside down to render their juices, and i finished that squash with a toss in dollop of pesto and a squeeze of lemon. My components completed, I layered lasagna sheets with seasoned ricotta (oregano, thyme, parsley, an egg, and generous shakes of ground Parmesan, pepper, and a bit of sea salt). The layers start with a simple tomato sauce (crushed canned tomatoes, oregano, basil, and sautéed chopped onion and crushed garlic with a touch of crushed red pepper, not too spicy for my precious Val to enjoy).  All these curated ingredients went into a small casserole that I had collected from my mother’s house once, long ago. My process is simple, and like any other maker, you layer the sauce. The pasta sheets were followed by the mixed veggies, a bit more sauce, dollops of flavored ricotta, fresh mozzarella, and I built up two sturdy layers. The last layer was topped with the rest of my sauce, more cheeses, and dried oregano. I cover mine with a sheet of plastic and foil and bake on a cookie sheet, just in case the beast decides to boil over. I remove the plastic and foil and toast the top layer during the last 15 minutes of cooking. That molten gift is given 1 hour to settle, and then I packed it up with more foil and a towel to prevent it from burning the freezer bag I transported it in. I prepped a simple salad with mixed greens, olives, mozzarella shreds, and tomatoes that I had dried the week before with thyme garlic and herbs (just like Jonilonis taught me) the greens were seasoned with a sprinkle of dried herbs, I like to use herbs de provenance, dry basil, or oregano and in summer I may toss in fresh herbs like parsley and thyme or cilantro, depending on the theme. I mixed up a quick red wine vinaigrette with a dash of Dijon, dry thyme, and a dash of crushed garlic, and shook it up in a mason jar to share later at the table. 

You really can’t forget the dessert and coffee with this group. We love our coffee, which is made cup by cup using the little coffee maker available to us at the Little Chapel. We bring all our supplies, but I always snag a little cinnamon from their giant Costco shaker. (I smile just thinking about that.) These generous folks allow us to use the little library for our gatherings. It has been a nice alternative to house sessions. It is an intimate and cozy gathering place. As my house is small, I am thankful for the little library space and courtyard for our session. 

For the writing, we alternate prompts and exercises for creating new works with editing days for pieces that we are refining. (You can see more about those sessions in Maria Elena’s write-up.)  I begin to consider my many options. In the past, I received a book of prompts, which I had used once before. This time, however, for the January meeting, I use prompts and ideas from Poets & Writers. We will have a few choices.
I offer three scenarios:
~ write about an animal we find emblematic,
~ produce a piece in multiple numbered parts, or
~ describe a relationship
These prompts are designed to inspire our writing, encourage us to explore new ideas and perspectives, and help us develop our storytelling skills. 
 
I am never as organized as my amigas. I come in with an idea or a strip of paper with a prompt copied onto it. I am excited about these prompts to kick off our new year of writing workshops. I walk into the session hopeful that we will inspire new writings from each other for this new year. 

I wrote my first real poem, titled “Dragonfly.” Jackie wrote a piece filled with powerful phrasing, offering a view onto the roadrunner who inhabits the desert surrounding her mother’s house. Val wrote about the many ways of imagining snow, and Maria Elena wrote a masterclass in the emotional documentation of parenthood.