Excited.
Honored.
Almost vomiting.

If you’re reading this post right now, I’m going to assume the following:

1. You’re been granted or tasked with teaching a creative writing course at your high school, summer camp, or even a higher education institute. 
   
2. You are feeling at least one if not all of the above emotions.
   
3. You’re looking for advice on where to start.
   

The reason I’m willing to bet these three things are true is because I was you about seven years ago. When I got the chance to take over our high school creative writing program in my third year of teaching, I felt all of the above emotions–but mostly the vomiting emotion. 

It wasn’t that I felt incapable of teaching writing. Writing had been my passion for as long as I could remember–it was why I became an English teacher. I’d spent years of my childhood filling notebooks with made-up tales of fluffy bunnies, talking parrots, and everything in between (usually involving an animal or ten). In addition, when I was granted the opportunity to take over the classes, I’d already been published several times.

Still, there’s something about being given the reins to a creative class that is daunting. For one, most of us teachers like structure, organization, and a methodical plan. With creative writing class, I found none of that in place. For one, there isn’t a set structure to teaching a subjective topic like creative writing. The mere subject matter itself makes a scope and sequence difficult to map out. Furthermore, there are very few resources out there for high school creative writing teachers, probably because it isn’t a commonly taught class (thanks, standardized testing, right?). And although it feels great to set down the English teacher textbook and finally focus on creativity, where do you even begin knowing what to actually teach? The state standards offer little structure or help, giving vague hints about style and voice. Still, what should a high school class focus on? How should students be assessed? How do you teach someone to be creative?

These were all questions I struggled with in my first few years of teaching the course. How did I sort it out? Trial and error, mostly. I made mistakes. I restructured. I tried new activities, and abandoned some old ones. And eventually, over the years, I created a class that felt right. It’s a class where I love to be–and so do my students, for the most part. It’s a class where I feel like they’re learning what they need to know for the field but still have freedom to make choices and be themselves. It’s a class with assessments and direct instruction but different in the sense the kids aren’t smothered by expectations of mastery. In a sense, it’s a free-flowing class that still offers a sense of structure and expectations.

Today, I not only have Creative Writing I class that I teach and developed, but I have Level II and a Novel Writing course. Since that first class, I’ve also become a USA Today Bestselling author. Still, even now, the thing I love about teaching creative writing is that no two classes are ever the same. The thing you’ll learn in this book, hopefully, is that there isn’t a one-size-fits-all approach to teaching creative writing. It ebbs and flows. It transforms as you change, too. 

Thus, I decided to write a book to share what I've learned along the way. I hope to give you practical tips for starting up your own creative writing class or curriculum. I’ll talk about tried and true strategies that have worked for me in the classroom, basic tenants to use in your own class, and activities I’ve enjoyed. We’ll talk about how to establish grading standards that give you flexibility and how to organize your class to maximize learning while still letting students have options. I’ll talk about how to create a helpful critique environment where students feel comfortable growing. 

I wrote this book for a few reasons. Other books out there focus either solely on activities or exclusively on writing theory. I didn’t feel like there was a book out there for “real” teachers–teachers who face the challenges of time, behavior, and pressure. I wanted to write a book from the heart, in a way, one that speaks to my own successes and learning curves. Most of all, I wanted to write a book in the hopes of inspiring you to create your own favorite class–because my creative writing class is my breath of fresh air during the day. When done well, your creative writing class can become a safe haven not only for your students to learn how to express themselves, but for you to be the kind of teacher I think we all want to be. It might not feel like it now. You might be feeling overwhelmed and like vomiting. But I promise, if you read this book and then make the ideas your own, you’ll shine. 

And let me say this, right at the beginning. It doesn’t matter how skilled you are in writing or how fancy your prompts are. It doesn’t matter if you have basic prompts or elaborate schemes. It doesn’t matter if you have technology or yellow wooden pencils to work with. It doesn’t matter if you can afford to take your class to the Globe Theater or if you barely have a broom closet to teach out of. None of that is needed to be a successful creative writing teacher, which is perhaps what I love the most.

I’m going to tell you the underlying secret to success now so you can keep it in mind the whole book. Sure, the other tips are nice and can be helpful. But at the core of your writing class, if you can keep this one thing in mind, you’ll be just fine. You’ll be more than fine–you’ll be wildly successful.

The secret?

Make the students feel safe enough to be seen, and you’ve won.

The rest is just filler.

Scroll down to read my first tip for Free. Then, if you want more tips, be sure to check out my book on Teaching High School Creative Writing now.


​

Strategy One: Put down the red pen.

    What matters most?

    Over the years, numerous students have sat in my creative writing class desks and penned all sorts of works. My class is a mix of tenth through twelfth graders of all different abilities and levels. Some students dream of publishing a novel. Some have already started. Several take the class because they want to get better at writing. A few follow their friends. Still others end up in my class because it’s the only course that fits in their schedule and it was either that or stay back another year. 

    All types of students and writers sit in my class with all different starting levels–that became apparent from day one. Thus, I found myself asking very early on in my writing teaching days the question posed above: What matters most?

    As an English teacher, I’d been taught that grammar is crucial to success, and we have to model appropriate grammar for our kids at all times. I can remember my student teacher mentor blasting me for using an improper form of a word during teaching one time. Thus, in the writing classroom, it can be difficult to let go of the notion that misspellings and typos must be corrected.

    One of my favorite books to share excerpts from, The Road by Cormac McCarthy, demonstrates a harsh truth English teachers seldom recognize; in certain periods of time, grammar is superfluous. His apocalyptic novel uses minimal punctuation and almost no dialogue marks. In this dog-eat-dog world, the story is what matters, not the restrictions of grammar.

    Thus, in my creative writing class, I follow this bare-bones lead. This is because when I asked the question about what mattered in my class, it was clear to me what my answer was. Creativity. Confidence. Voice. These were the things I wanted my kids to leave with, no matter how they came to me. I wanted my students to learn to be imaginative and take risks in their ideas. The only bad idea was a boring one–I wanted them to be brave and come up with new concepts that really had no other place in their academic day. I wanted to take advantage of the freedom I had without standardized testing, and I wanted to pass those benefits on to them.

    Most classrooms in a school setting don’t have the luxury of stepping away from rigid state requirements and high-stakes testing. Thus, most of my students don’t get the opportunity to explore creativity at its finest–the kind that sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t. They’ve been programmed to tirelessly seek the “correct” answer and perfect their grades, thus, arguably stifling their imaginations. I wanted my classroom to be a place that felt different than other classes, not because we are kicking back and doing nothing but because it was a place they were free to take risks, make mistakes, and still get applauded. I wanted my writing class to focus on content generation and ideas, not perfecting English concepts.

    I also wanted them to learn confidence. Many of my best creative writing students struggle with grammar, spelling, and the traditional English classroom. They are used to getting papers back that look like they’ve been massacred–red pen highlighting every single mistake. “You can’t,” these red etchings say to them. Many of them have come to believe them.

    Thus, I made a quick decision in year one that grammar and spelling wouldn’t affect grades in my writing class. I do not have a red pen in that class. I do not correct apostrophes or misspellings. We highlight tense changes because that is part of the writing guidelines, and we talk about how too many run-ons or fragments can get in the way of a message. Other than that, I don’t make note of anything else. This is not the class to analyze commas in a compound sentence or the proper use of a semicolon. 

    The result, I’ve found, is that voices once stifled are able to rise above their limitations. Students who struggle with grammar shed the weight of “you can’t” vibes and let their own voices ring out. They tell their stories, unencumbered by a lack of vocabulary or understanding of syntax. They let their truths shine and showcase vulnerabilities that otherwise would have been hidden. They learn early on their voices matter more than any red pen.

    Won’t ignoring grammar mistakes make it difficult for you to read and grade their works appropriately? I’ll cover this in a later chapter, but in my class, almost all of the grading is done through read alouds. This not only makes your task as a grader more efficient, but it also helps the students to learn from each other. They internalize the learning on a whole different level. 

    Most of all, though, this approach helps the students learn what I think the class should be all about, at least in an introductory level: they learn confidence. Suddenly, the “You can’t” message becomes “You can.” I have seen the genuine smiles of students who have only ever had their writing corrected beam brightly when they’re given compliments on their ideas. I’ve come to learn, too, that you can’t fix grammar in isolation. Once students have the confidence in their writing and in their story, only then does grammar even matter. When they understand they have a story worth telling, then you can begin to tackle the complex, abstract issues of how poor grammar detracts from their message. If they don’t truly believe they have words worth sharing, why would it matter if a few commas or improperly placed modifiers detract from the meaning?

    This is, of course, not the way you have to run your creative writing classroom. The beautiful thing about this subject and course is there are countless ways of teaching it in a beneficial way. Maybe you’ll decide to hold onto the red pen just a little bit, or maybe you’ll put it on reserve for later in the course. Maybe the grammar stickler in you won’t let you loosen the grip. Still, I challenge you to at least put the red pen down for a few months and see what progress you can make on content creation. I think once you see for yourself the impact you can have by taking the perfectionist pressure off of your writers, you’ll understand the benefits firsthand. You’ll start to hear ideas and creativity I would argue you wouldn’t otherwise.

    Eventually, if you feel the need to focus on grammar, consider focusing on grammar issues that publishers commonly note finding in manuscripts. Some of the issues I’ve worked through with editors include:

• Overusing the word “that”
  
• Overusing adverbs
  
• Not using enough action verbs
  
• Using tell instead of show
  
• Overusing the word “very”
  
• Repeated words in close proximity
  

    If you tackle grammar from a publishing/style perspective instead of a technical perspective, students understand it in a more meaningful way. They have a reason to clean up some of their usage and begin to realize how these small changes impact their wording, impact, and voice 


The Takeaway:

• Avoid making your creative writing class “another English class.” Instead, promote freedom of ideas by ignoring grammar mistakes, at least in the beginning. 
  
• Promoting content generation and creativity are skills that serve all learners in the long-run. Most students don’t get to practice these in a low-pressure environment, so make your class a place to explore.
  
• Focus on what students are doing well in order to build confidence.
  
• Establish a “you can” attitude about writing before you teach the students to take ownership for more complex concepts such as grammar.
  

​

Maybe it was actually prophetic, the way I cried and panicked leading up to the day. Maybe deep down, beyond what my family and friends deemed ridiculous tears, I could already sense what was coming. Or maybe, in the credo of those who believe in manifesting, I brought it all down on myself with my late night weep fests over getting older and turning 30. Regardless, back at 29, the thought of thirty candles on my cake freaked me out–yet I still had no idea the impending storm coming my way.

My family, my husband, my friends–they all reassured me thirty was a good thing. I heard champagne promises of the “best years coming” and “stability” and “inner peace.” I bought the thirty lie for a while, imagining myself as Jennifer Garner in 13 Going on 30–Flirty and Thriving.

But now, at 34, I can honestly tell you–this has NOT been the thriving, flirty decade the movies like to portray. I don’t feel like the women in all the movies I watched growing up, where they confidently strut in stilettos through offices and up career ladders. In my version of my thirties, red lipstick can’t fix everything (trust me, I’ve tried), and there isn’t always a fun New York City club scene to drown your work sorrows in. There isn’t the witty best friend or the cocktail parties to attend. I have a gorgeous sparkly top for work to evening wear events that I have yet to break out.

In truth, for me, my thirties have been an amalgamation of watching the hard work of my twenties pay off–only to find out there are new problems on the horizon.

So far, my thirties have been marked by job loss and financial uncertainty, thanks in part to a world pandemic but also, I think, because it’s life, which is never certain. There have been health scares and threats of war looming in the distance. There have been weird talks of “new normal” and enough changes in the past few years to last a lifetime. 

There has been the loss of the beloved dog we bought in our early twenties to go with our white picket fence life we have yet to have time to appreciate. There have been constant answerings to social pressures as to why we, a married couple, don’t want children. There has been looking around at our collection of things and accomplishments as questions like, “What now?” circle endlessly.

There have been existential crises on a daily basis about why I’m here, if I’m living my purpose, and what the hell happiness truly is besides a Starbucks coffee and bag of chocolate. There have been questions of whether or not the dreams I worked so hard for in my twenties are actually even my dreams anymore. There are looming regrets and “What ifs?” and “What’s it all for?”

There have been struggles with a changing body and slowing metabolism. There has been weight gain and wondering if I’m still pretty. There have been constant mental battles over the gray hairs, the wrinkles cropping up, and a wistful look at photos of the past when I was a “better version.”

In short, there has been very little stiletto wearing, cocktail drinking, and strutting with the assurance of the flirty thirties of the movies.

I will admit, I didn’t go into it all blindly. Some people tried to warn me. They told me in my twenties, when I was frantically worrying about finding peace and stability and success to enjoy those years. Your twenties are fun and lighthearted. You’re not expected to really know anything, and hangovers barely feel like anything. They told me to live it up, that they were fun years. 

I just didn’t believe them.

People told me that life is tiring and the adult world is full of complex injustices. They told me that money would always be hard and relationships took a lot of work. They told me how exhausting and stressful the 9 to 5 hustle could be.

I still didn’t believe them.

Still, there’s one important piece I think is so often let out, and it’s been the piece I’ve struggled with the most. Because people warned me to enjoy my twenties, but no one told me how the #1 soul killer in your thirties would be something completely unexpected: monotony.

There’s something to be said for settling into your thirties, a life of (hopefully) stability where you’ve sort of figured out the hard stuff. You’ve made the big decisions and perhaps settled into your career. You’ve found a routine and your place in the world. All of this seems like it would secure your thirties as the perfect decade. 

But I’ve found–it doesn’t.

First of all, stability, I think, is always a myth. Life is constantly changing, as I’ve learned. You can do all the “right” things and make good choices. Life will still come for you when you’ve least expected because, well, that’s life. 

And furthermore, even if you do find solid ground to build your foundation on, you aren’t guaranteed happiness. With the stability come all of the haunting questions.

Is this what I really want?

Is life supposed to be this predictable and dull?

Is this really it for the rest of my life?

Sometimes, I think the hardest thing is waking up in your thirties and realizing this might not be sustaining, that your soul searching isn’t done. Because although the movies want us to believe we’ll have it all sorted out by thirty, the thing I’ve come to learn is: very few of us do.

I write this article not for pity or reassurance from those of you who have passed through this decade. I don’t write this article as a word of warning to those in your twenties. I don’t even write this article to commiserate with my fellow thirty-somethings. I write this article because I think we all need to be reminded, whatever decade we’re in, of a few things.

1. There is no magic number where life just falls into place. That’s perfectly okay.
2. Your twenties are for figuring out who you are and what you want–but so are your 30s. And your 40s. And your 70s. And your 90s. 
3. Life is about evolving. Stability is a blessing, but it also comes at a price–sometimes that price is passion, excitement, and the things that make life beautiful.
4. Adult life is really hard, no matter what your age is. There are no guarantees for a perfect, easy time of life.

My thirties haven’t been the gleeful decade I’d hoped for when I hesitantly blew out those thirty candles. Still, they are part of my story. They’re part of my evolution as a person, an evolution I don’t think will ever be done. At least I hope not.

Because now, I’m learning that yes, you are different in your thirties–and that can be a good thing. It’s okay to dream new dreams. It’s okay to still feel a little (or a lot) lost. That’s part of what this whole journey is about.

One of my favorite quotes or mantras is: “You are not a tree.” It reminds me that you don’t ever have to be stagnant in your dreams, your life, or your pursuits. Despite what the movies and media tell us, there isn’t a deadline to self-discovery.  If you get to your thirties and find yourself lacking, give yourself permission to dream new dreams, to mix it up, and to find excitement–and that goes for your forties, fifties, sixties, seventies, eighties, nineties, and beyond, too.

No matter how many candles are on that cake, put on the red lipstick and the stilettos if you want–or go barefoot. Regardless, this life is short. It is your duty to find what lights you up, no matter what your age.

Go fearlessly forward, and don’t let the number of candles stop you. Ever.

​

If you love unreliable narrators, true stories, and the medieval time period, The Last Duel is a movie that you should definitely add to your list.

Armored with a top-notch cast that includes Ben Affleck, Matt Damon, and Adam Driver, this movie is packed with high-quality acting and a storyline that will keep you guessing. Based on a true story, it follows two friends (played by Matt Damon and Adam Driver) who are torn apart by rivalry. The heart of the movie rests on a disturbing accusation that Adam Driver's character raped Matt Damon's character's wife. Of course, as the title suggests, it is determined the matter will be settled by a duel.

At first, I deemed this movie to skip around too much. The viewer is left in a dizzying state of lacking orientation as the story skips from event to event without any smooth progression. We first follow Jean De Carrouge's story (Matt Damon) and his account of events. The story is engaging but it is jilting because of the time and place jumps. However, we are treated to a story of chivalry, courage, and perseverance, all things that make the main character admirable despite some shortcomings.

Here's my favorite part of the movie, though; after we get Jean De Carrouge's story, the movie essentially starts over, this time from Jacques Le Gris's perspective (Adam Driver). This seems like it would be dull, but the movie is so well-written that it isn't. The new perspective we get shows us the same main events but with different additions due to the new narrator. We get new details that potentially change our mind and view of the other characters.

And finally, we get a third perspective: Marguerite De Carrouge. Again, this retelling of events gives us a new way of looking at what we thought previously.

This is a movie that constantly will make you think and question. It's a movie about how we perceive reality and who the real villain is. I love anything with an unreliable narrator, but this flipped that concept on its head by giving us three different narrators. I loved how small perspective changes flipped my ideas over and over again.

I did find the ending slightly lacking only because I wanted more. However, this is a movie that is expertly done with a star cast. I loved that it told a true story in an engaging way. I also loved that at the heart of the movie is a powerful and jarring message about reality, about women, and about who is left to tell the truth.

I highly recommend this movie, especially for date night, as I think its engaging construct will captivate a wide array of audiences. It will stand out in my mind as a very unique movie of which I have never seen anything similar. 

I fell for the 30 lie when I was in my teens and twenties. You know, the lie that says you'll have your life all figured out and perfected by that third decade.

Maybe it was the movie "13 Going on 30" that did it. I just pictured myself at 30 with a life that reeked of fulfillment, joy, and purpose. I would get up everyday with my sleek body, put on a professional outfit, and step outside of my home worthy of a magazine to greet the day with a smile. I would know exactly who I was and what I wanted. I would have achieved my goals and be living a life where everyday felt full of purpose and passion.

I fell for the 30 lie...and then, when I turned 30, it all sort of crumbled.

I realized very quickly after blowing out those 30 candles that the movies, society, the magazines that seem to suggest your 20s are for exploring and your 30s are where it's at....well, they missed some important points.

Like the point that no one really figures it all out by a certain age. Like that, as cheesy as it sounds, it's truly about the journey.

The thing is: there is no endpoint in our self-fulfillment journeys. We are always evolving, changing, growing, and learning (if we're doing this life thing remotely right). What we think we want at 30 might not be what we want at 32 anymore. And that dream we had in our teens might not fulfill us any longer in our 40s. Life is truly about changing, and, thus, we sometimes must change our visions for life, too.

Then, of course, there's the fact that life never quite goes as we expect it. Unexpected tragedies, surprises, and opportunities crop up. Sometimes, the path we thought we were on falls out from under us and we are left floundering.

I've come to learn in my 30s that this thing called life is a winding journey. It's never done. It's never flattened out. 

I think the best we can do is commit to a life where we constantly assess what we want, what makes us happy, and where our passions are. There is no such thing as a perfect life, but there is such a thing as perfecting our reflective powers to figure out where are passions lie at different points in our life.

So, this year, I hope you take some time, no matter what your age, to reassess. 

*What do you LOVE?
*When are you happiest?
*Do you have more good days than bad?
*What are the blessings in your life?
*What do you wish you had more of in your life?

And then, once you've reflected on that, I hope you find a way to bring more into your life this year--more joy, more passion, and more moments that make you feel peace. 

If you're doing that, no matter what age you are, I think you'll find that this life is crazy beautiful and fulfillment although everchanging, is possible. 

A prominent figure recently made statements about purposes and worth....and what life choices deem some as selfish. It was aimed at men and women, but I'm talking about women for now because it is what I know.

I'm not here to debate religion. I am here to say this because I worry that especially for women, the message could be detrimental. I worry that somewhere out there, those words cut deep for someone.
Here's the thing:

If you mothered children, you are worthy in my book.

If you mothered others in any way, you are worthy.

If you can't mother in the traditional sense, you are worthy.

If you mother as a dog or cat or any other creature mom, you are worthy.

If you don't mother in any way at all, you are worthy.

Our worth as people and especially women is not solely tied to our mothering qualities. Being a mother is important and admirable. I respect you all. But I also respect those of you who don't feel that calling, that purpose. I respect those of you who are called to it in a non-traditional sense. I respect those of you who love and nurture in different ways. I respect those of you who love and nurture yourself enough to chase the life that is right for you.

There is nothing selfish or detrimental or shameful about living your own purpose, your own life, and your own calling....whatever that looks like.
​
It takes all types, all beliefs, all values, and all pathways to make this world a better place, in my opinion. Never follow the pathway that you feel you must. Follow the one that sets your heart on fire.
​
And yes, I am in the dog mom only category....and proud of it. To those who have ever loved a dog, you know there is nothing selfish or ugly or detrimental about that bond.

Hello and welcome!

If you're new in this space, I'm USA Today Bestselling thriller and horror author L.A. Detwiler. I'm a high school English teacher by day and a total bookworm by night. I'm married to my junior high sweetheart, and we have six rescued cats as well as a very wild Great Dane puppy named Edmund.

I started writing in the sweet romance genre (I wrote my first book during college), but a few years ago, I found my writing home in thriller/horror/all things creepy. I'm a huge fan of writers like Shirley Jackson, Stephen King, and Poe, and they heavily influence my writing.

I write books that focus a lot on the female perspective and emotional horror. I love to play with the idea of unreliable narrators and the concept of villains. My Great Dane Edmund shows up in all of my books (and before that, it was my mastiff, Henry).

My first thriller, The Widow Next Door, hit the USA Today Bestseller's list. It's published with HarperCollins UK/One More Chapter. The audio book is actually coming out this spring, and I'm so excited! I also have a popular serial killer's book called The Diary of a Serial Killer's Daughter. It's the winner of the bronze medal for Reader's Favorite, and I'm so proud of it. 

I'm a coffee addict, a Netflix binger, and I buy way too much at Ulta. I live in a small town in Pennsylvania where I love sitting in my hammock reading all the books.

I'd love to hear about you! Tell me where you're from, what you do for a living, and what books you love.

Stay Safe and Be True,

L.A. Detwiler

​New York Times Bestseller.

It's a title. That's it. 

It doesn't mean you are more worthy or have a more important writing voice (I don't think, anyway). It doesn't equate to happiness or complete, automatic success. Some would say it's a fool's dream.

Still, it's been my dream since I've realized my first two dreams: To get published and to hit the USA Today Bestseller's list. Both of those dreams felt IMPOSSIBLE. I still pinch myself that both came true.

Hitting the NYT Bestseller's list is, truly, an impossible goal, too, even more than the others, probably. It's something I might spend my life chasing without ever reaching it.

But that's okay. Because I've come to learn that the chase is truly what keeps your heart on fire with passion. Dreams, big, wild dreams, are what helps us make sense of this whole journey. Dreams are what keep us looking up at the stars.

So, I'm entering 2022 with my heart and mind focused on my goal: I'm going to write my best book to date. Will it hit the NYT list? Probably not. Most definitely not. 

Still, I've seen over the past six years of my journey that the definitely nots definitely stand a chance.

I'm off to doing my research for what I'm hoping will be my best book to date. It's a thriller and it dabbles in all sorts of topics I'm loving learning all about.

Until then, I hope you, too, are daring to dream big...and then daring to dream even bigger.

Stay Safe and Be True,

L.A. Detwiler

​There's something magic about this time of year, the days right before the calendar switches. 

I know, I know: You can set goals and change your routine any time of the year. You don't have to wait for January 1st. 

Still, I love the symbolism in that blank page, that whole year ahead. I love the idea of setting goals, of dreaming dreams, and of trying to set intentions for a better version of yourself.

This year, in 2022, I'm getting focused on my truest passion: writing. I'm chasing my big, wild dream of being a NYT bestseller. I'm focusing in on my writing and paring down my schedule to chase my biggest passions. 

I'm making self-care a priority, which means saying "no" to some things and simplifying. It means prioritizing and asking the hard question: What truly makes me happy?

I'm going into 2022 feeling ready to live more passionately and to stop apologizing (thank you, Rachel Hollis) for being my truest self.

I hope that you are doing the same. I hope you have your eye on 2022 as well, and I hope it fills you with excitement.

We've got this. Let's go get our dreams, friends.

Stay Safe and Be True,

L.A. Detwiler