What I’ve Learned About Presenting Online Writing Workshops
By Sophie Masson | July 15, 2020 |
Like most professional writers, I’ve always supplemented my writing income with speaking gigs—workshops, talks, presentations of all sorts, both for adults and for children. Although over the years I’ve presented the odd Skype or other remotely-delivered live presentation, the vast majority of my speaking gigs have been face-to-face and in person. They’ve often involved travel of some sort or the other—usually long distance, sometimes close to home.
Since late March, when the shutdown began here in Australia, that’s not been possible. Things are easing now where I live–we can travel now, at least within our State, that’s not the issue—but it still isn’t possible to return to the old speaking-gig model. Schools aren’t keen on having outside visitors, libraries’ hours are still restricted, and adults who usually attend workshops don’t really feel confident yet about the face-to-face experience. Like so many, I’ve had to learn to pivot pretty much exclusively to online presentations, and in the process I’ve learned quite a few things about the differences between online and in person, and how to best adapt a model I’ve evolved over the years I’ve been doing these gigs.
As I mentioned earlier, I’ve done the odd Skype or other online live presentation before, so I wasn’t unfamiliar with the remotely-accessed method of delivery: but all those previous presentations were talks, not workshops. Talks, like conference presentations, don’t need a lot of adaptation to present online—you give your talk, people sit there and listen, and then they ask questions at the end, which are hopefully moderated by whoever is the organizer. You do miss some of the buzz of the in-person audience, the expressions on people’s faces, etc. But it works pretty well, still. Some of the talks I’d given online had been to multiple schools at once, through a Department of Education closed system, and they worked like Zoom does, with muting of microphones etc. I’d be based in one of their studios which enabled the use of an electronic whiteboard, or ‘smartboard’ as it’s known here. The main challenge with those was making sure every school could contribute to question time. The Skype talks I’d given meanwhile had been to individual schools, one at a time, and that was easy because apart from not being in the classroom, it was, well, pretty much the same as being in the classroom 😊
Adapting talks to Zoom or other platforms of that kind represented no real issue for me. But I’d never given a online workshop and I was pretty nervous about it. My workshops have a structure, of course, but they are very much open to improvisation, as I’ve learnt over the years that works best in that setting. Online, I felt, had to have a much tighter structure, or people would quickly lose focus. I would not be able to do what I normally did, give people time to write—sitting in front of a screen, that would feel like ‘dead’ time, even if you used ‘breakout’ rooms. Yet people still needed a practical activity or exercise to work with, I felt, not just talking and group discussion. Timing was important—no way was it possible for me to run a workshop of more than two hours online: so a workshop I might have run over a day in the ‘real’ world would either have to be drastically shortened, which wasn’t ideal; or split into two-hour sessions, over a period of weeks. But would that dilute the impact of the workshop? And what of the bonding of the group—how to achieve that? In an in-person workshop, that bonding naturally happens over the course of the workshop, including in coffee or lunch breaks. As well, of course, because generally in an in-person workshop people are from the area you are giving the workshop in, there is that shared connection, even if they don’t know each other personally. In an online workshop, however, participants can be from anywhere across the country-which meant you had to think about another factor, time zones. As in the US, there are different time zones in Australia. And finally, there was the issue of the ‘venue’—the background, as it were—I had to think about how that would appear on everyone’s screens.
So I plotted and planned and worried a little–until I gave my first online workshop, via Zoom. And very quickly, I learned a few things from that experience:
*People don’t expect quite the same from an online workshop as an in-person one.
*In some ways their expectations are easier on the presenter than an in-person one, in others a little harder. For instance, they don’t mind not having time to write but they are much more focused on getting answers to specific questions.
*People prefer feedback and advice on things they’ve already written or are planning to write rather than creating new things based on your planned activity.
*The group bonding doesn’t really happen in the same way as in-person, but there are still good connections made in discussion.
*Structure is important but improvisation can definitely still happen.
*My instinct on timing was right: two hours works well and feels like a natural limit. It did not dilute the impact of the workshop.
*The background of your presentation is not really an issue—as long as it’s unobtrusive and reasonably tidy, most don’t seem to take any notice. And of course they have their own background to think about, anyway 😊
*Show and tell needs to be kept to a minimum: in an in-person workshop, I might show a short Powerpoint slide show to demonstrate, say, the process of creating a picture book, and this will often engender quite a bit of discussion. But though sharing your screen to do the same thing online can work, it doesn’t have the same impact as in-person, and people tend not to engage with it as much. In fact, oddly enough, as I discovered, the technological ‘bells and whistles’ I might use for an in-person workshop simply don’t seem to carry over properly in an online workshop: in person, they serve as a point of entertaining connection; online, they seem like a distancing distraction. And that, I wasn’t expecting at all.
Over to you: either as presenter or participant (or both), what are your experiences of online workshops? What do you think works—and what doesn’t?
Born in Indonesia of French parents, and brought up in France and Australia, Sophie Masson is the award-winning author of over 70 books for children, young adults and adults. Her latest books include Sydney under Attack (children’s historical novel, Scholastic Australia, 2022) A Hundred Words for Butterfly (adult novella, ES-Press, 2022) and Cock-a-doodle-doo (children’s picture book, (illustrated by Kathy Creamer, little Pink Dog Books, 2022). In 2019, Sophie received an AM (Member, General Division) award in the Order of Australia honours list.
Thanks, Sophie. Great thoughts for all those who now find themselves in this new medium. I have been teaching a wine importing class for seven years at San Diego State University. This year, for the first time, it’s going online. It’s a 3 hour class, once a week for six weeks. Three hours is feeling like a long time to hold their attention without wine (yes, I have wine in class to demonstrate the styles, packaging and pricing that might be relevant to their thinking about imports). I’m wondering how I break it up so that they get the most out of it. All uncharted territory.
Sure is uncharted territory, Deborah! I can imagine how hard that must be, trying to convey something as physical and sensual as wine online…
I’ve done the occasional book club online over the years, but not a workshop. The way my wonky brain works, it’s often difficult for me to follow things on the phone, skype, facetime, etc. I tend to be distracted easily!
When I tried to give an hour ‘classroom’ for my granddaughter before they completed the online schooling stuff they needed to do, it was difficult for me to connect as well as I wanted to–it was easy for both of us to be distracted! However, I’m glad I had that time with her.
When I attend(ed) lectures or workshops, it really is/was more to get my reclusive self out of the house and be among others. So, I guess that’s my short answer in a long comment – laughing!
Yes, distraction in online workshops/classes, both for presenter and attendees, is a bit of an issue, isn’t it! You have to concentrate more online but the conditions for concentration are not necessarily as optimal as in a face to face…
Thank you, Sophie, for what you do!
Over the summer I participated in two online writing classes/workshops. One was an eight-week zoom class and the other one, which I am attending now, is a facebook writer’s club workshop.
It’s been great and I had/have a wonderful experience. The personal involvement and the feedback of the author have been vital. While everyone is learning to live in this new world, we all still sit behind a screen with the same need, namely to be seen and heard. (I suppose that’s the reason most of us write anyways.)
Here is what was really helpful …
In the zoom class our instructor picked a few people to present previous assignments. Some were then zoomed into the class. It was a nice incentive (at least for those who didn’t mind). I liked seeing the work of others when the screen was shared. I didn’t mind those visuals. While the instructor spoke, she had her admin do the presenting and screen sharing. It flowed nicely and wasn’t bogged down by glitches or awkward silence.
Thanks again for adjusting to an ever-changing world .. Keep going!!! Writers still need teachers and teachers still need writers!
… Sounds like a good combination to me :-)
Thanks very much for your encouraging words, Heidi! yes indeed, writers still need teacher and teachers still need writers–I think all of us are having to adjust in a variety of different ways. Sounds like a great idea, what your instructor did in the zoom class-you have more interaction then, from the start. And a good idea too for the instructor to have someone else do the stuff like screen sharing and admin stuff, which can hold up proceedings otherwise.
Hi, Sophie. Glad you are doing well in these challenging times!
I recently attended a two-and-a-half hour Zoom writing workshop. For an introvert, it worked extremely well. There was no requirement for audience members to provide video input, and for whatever reason, that allowed me to come out of my shell and contribute more than I would do normally. My hearing can also be borderline in crowds, so online classes are actually a huge benefit in that respect. Because of lack of video, I could take a bathroom or stretch break as required without disturbing others.
Our instructor had us go through several writing exercises of 5-10 minutes. After, several volunteers shared their results. We were all adults, but the uniform feedback was that we all found it a fast-moving, engaging workshop. In fact, I typically find it hard to write during public workshops; it’s like my brain won’t engage. But without the usual visual distractions or the need to appear engaged, I paradoxically could be.
Anyway, I’m sure my peculiarities aren’t representative of your target audience, but those are my $0.02. You might discover this format is a net benefit to many.
You are very likely right, Jan! The online format works well for some people, and not so well with others, and the trick for the presenter is finding the right balance to engage as many people as possible. That’s always the case, of course; it just seems accentuated in online workshops–or maybe that’s just because I’m at the beginning of presenting them!
Did you pay Zoom the $499 fee to use Zoom for 2 hours?
No–the Zoom account I use is a normal Pro one where you only pay a (very reasonable) fee per year and there’s no limit on time though there’s a 100-person limit on the numbers in a meeting/workshop. Never heard of Zoom charging a fee that high!
Thank you for sharing your experience, Sophie! I resisted moving the workshops I teach online, despite requests. Like you, I leave room to improvise and value the community that builds in the group.
Now that I have, I agree with a lot of your points: improvisation can still happen; it’s harder to create community, and backgrounds don’t matter.
In other ways, my experience has been different from yours. I do still have people write in class, though for shorter sprints (3-4 minutes). I almost never used slides in a classroom (see: improvisation) but always use them online because: 1) It helps people focus amid distractions; 2) I think people have a harder time listening to a speaker online than in a class, and 3) some people have difficulty hearing, either because of hearing loss or connectivity issues.
I’ve found people to be generous and understanding about the learning curve for all of us. Many are simply glad to be in a space to talk about writing with other writers. And I’m so happy to be able to continue providing that space.
I hope you’ll check back again in a few months and let us know if/how anything has changed as we all get more comfortable in this new environment.
Thanks, Barbara. Good to hear about your experiences presenting the online workshops–I guess the different experiences depend on the different groups one gets each time, doesn’t it? Just like in face to face, in fact :-) Yes, I think people do very much like the fact that this way they can still get together and talk about writing with other writers. And I completely agree, that they are generous and tolerant when it comes to presenters’ learning curve. Things will definitely get easier as we adapt more.