I went to Jessica Morrell’s Narrative Nonfiction workshop today. I think I’ve mentioned before that I’ve been attending Jessica’s workshops for about ten years. Obviously, they are so rich and powerfully inspirational that I keep coming back again and again.

Jessica has always seemed to me, to personify the goddess Isis. Nurturing and mothering, she gives off the energy of great compassion, while also imparting wisdom and guidance. True to the energy of a mother being of the lost voices, and a facilitator of emerging strengths – she has always, to my continued gratitude, never given me what I think I want in a workshop… she graciously and cleverly gives me what I needed but wasn’t yet aware enough to request.

I feel often like a child in her workshops, lacking enough world experience to make leaps or comparisons because I haven’t the frame of reference yet to truly know what I am asking for; like a child that wants candy before bedtime, but Jessica provides boundaries and substance as a substitute for sweets and offers a better solution – how about a bedtime story instead.

So it is in her workshops that I often have epiphanies, or draw parallels to my writing styles, events, characters, scenes and then life in general – that I leave feeling like Isis somehow tricked me into becoming better at my craft, even though I came in asking for an easy fix.

She lulls with language, my most powerful addiction. She dazzles with humor. She sprinkles magic in her choice of reference and as if charming a snake to dance with the mere power of her voice, she speaks to her classes in a heightened form of metaphor, which to a soul as thirsty as mine, feels like honeyed cream – and I am soothed, even what I did not know ached.

When I am in a workshop with her, I feel as though we are in a John William Waterhouse painting. Then when I go home, I am slightly disoriented, passionately inspired and can’t shake the feeling that I was learning in layers, and only when I am ready to level up, will I realize the practical application of whatever else was planted while I was happily being awed by glorious imagery.

Then, every once in awhile – she’ll let loose with a startling question that slices past all my pretense, through all my guards, directly to a well hidden personal deceit. Her arrow strikes home at my personal deception, and rather than gloat about a mark or dispassionately retreat, she asks, “How can your write that into your story? What does it reveal about you? Write it.”

And I smile at that uncomfortable twinge, because – I know she is dead right, then I love her a little more for her courage and the strength with which she braved the booby-traps of my emotional triggers to deliver what needed to be heard.

When we are at coffee or lunch or wandering around the city in an out of stores, she is a student of the world with me. We might pick up the same scarf at Anthropology and while we are gazing at the same silken fabric we are both thinking, “How can I use this in a story?” “Which character would wear this?” And I am comforted to be with like mind in that all the world is a story in mid-harvest.

She was my first writing contact when I moved to the city of Portland. She saw me fresh faced, still not old enough to order a drink, bumbling my way around foreign territory. She was my critique instructor when I started two new projects and was able to help me fight my way through the confusion of discovering my voice.

Back then she knew me as a scared young woman who jumped at shadows and flinched at loud noises.

She was there when my marriage fell apart and I ran off on my BlissQuest to whatever end – I didn’t know. And she smiled and offered ideas and comforted with her presence, while I fumbled gracelessly toward healing.

All the while, we talked of story, discussed metaphor, peeled back layers of meanings and feasted on the lessons of what it means to be a part of the human saga.

There are few people I can go to brunch with and freely expose the vulnerability of my newest personal discoveries and have them received with the amnesty of a writer’s mind, or pick apart a private angst and receive the sound perspective of a fellow student in the art of collecting experiences. But Jessica is one of them- and I am profoundly grateful for her.

She’s much my Isis, and I have little to offer in thanks sometimes, but the promise to continue learning, writing and do well by the grace of her education and friendship.

For those of you who are writers or who dream of becoming a writer, please check out her books. These books will make you a better writer whether you want to be or not. They pinpoint common problems and offer sound, reasonable solutions to the craft of storytelling and the spirituality involved in the practice of that craft.

Writing Out the Storm
Between the Lines
The Writer’s I Ching: Wisdom for the Creative Life
Bullies, Bastards and Bitches; How to Write the Bad Guys of Fiction
Thanks But This Isn’t for Us: A (sort of) Compassionate Guide to Why Your Writing is Being Rejected

She offers workshops and classes and a summer retreat at the Oregon Coast. I recommend them all.

If I have learned one powerful thing about my craft, it is that writers need to be with their kind from time to time. To hear the language spoken. To feel the cadence of story. To be in the company of those who reflect on a well placed metaphor like one who would savor a beautifully aged Scotch.

If you are too far away to come to a class, I recommend joining or starting a group. A critique group or even a book club for starters.

But whatever you do, if you have a voice and want to use it – write. If you do nothing else. Just write.

Calling Portland Writers! There’s still time to get in on Jessica’s Morrell’s writing classes!!

You can check out her blog here.

I’ve known Jessica for almost 10 years and have been taking classes and workshops from her from time to time. She’s a fabulously talented woman who makes her living as a writer and editor and has like 5 books on the shelf already and more in the pipeline.

So she clearly knows what she’s talking about. If you want to be a better writer, here’s a list of her upcoming workshops and I HIGHLY RECOMMEND signing up! She’s amazing and if you work with her, your writing will evolve, not to mention she’s a kick in the pants to be around. She’s fun and gets right to the point of how to be a better storyteller.

Here’s her flyer:

Writing Your Life: Narrative Nonfiction
February 6, Parts 1 &2, 9:30-4:30

Narrative nonfiction reads like fiction but is loyal to facts and truth. But it has something more–a bit of magic, the poetry of beautifully written sentences, and thoughtful explorations of themes. This workshop will explain how a memoir or essay uses novelistic techniques to shape reality on the page. Part 1 will combine lecture, discussion, and a writing exercise. Part 2, which happens in the afternoon, will be focused on voice that leaves a trace of the writer and is harmony with his or her roots. We’ll complete another writing exercise, then participants will give feedback on the writing samples each has brought to demonstrate his or her writing voice.

February 13 Part 3, Writing Your Life: Narrative Nonfiction

Part 3 will take place on the February 13 and will begin with a lecture on truth and themes in nonfiction, as well as how to write compelling beginnings. We’ll then provide feedback on the participants’ opening pages and brainstorm strategies for getting published. Times: 9:30-12:30 Cost: $95.00, February 6 only $75
Fine-tuning Fiction

February 13, 1-5

I wrote my book Between the Lines which is about how to employ the subtler aspects of fiction writing because over the years I’ve noticed that a lot of writers have great plot ideas, but that their stories don’t pass muster because their lack of understanding and craft of some of smaller aspects of fiction. In this workshop we’ll discuss and illustrate this concept via reading several short stories, and talking about the places in your fiction where you want to become more refined. Topics include: subtlety, flashbacks, theme, subplots, secondary characters, dialogue, and imagery.
Note: participants will read one short story before the session (available on- line).

Cost: $40 Location: PNCA 1241 N.W. Johnson
(Note Fine-tuning Fiction will also an all-day workshop in Manzanita, OR on April 10.)

Generous handouts are included in all the workshops.

To register: send a check to Jessica Morrell, P.O. Box 820141 , Portland , OR 97282-1141 Phone 503 287-2150 or write at jessicapage@spiritone.com for more information.