In 2014, a friend introduced me to Suzanne Kingsbury, a novelist, developmental editor and creator of Gateless Writing. Gateless and Suzanne had completely transformed her writing, my friend said, and she wanted to put me in touch. I was writing a little at the time; I’d started a couple of blogs and had been submitting essays here and there. I wasn’t really sure where I wanted to go with it, but I was intrigued. I reached out to Suzanne and discovered she was hosting a retreat in Rhode Island and did I want to come? Don’t bring anything, Suzanne said, just your laptop and some comfortable clothing and I’ll see you there.
This is how a Gateless salon works: You sit in a warm and cozy room with other writers. You wrap yourself in blankets and eat chocolate and drink hot beverages. After a short meditation and maybe a little head massage, you are given a prompt, which you can follow or ignore. Then you start writing. When you’re finished, you share what you’ve written and the other writers tell you what they loved about it.
The writing you do in Gateless salons is important, but the real magic happens when you share your work. Because instead of listening for what isn’t working in the piece or offering advice on how you might make it better, the writers tell you what’s working, what’s strong, what shines. And because you know your work will be received with love, you feel comfortable taking risks and being vulnerable. I’ve seen writers completely transform when they hear their feedback. They burst into tears. They glow. They look positively post-coital. I’ve done my best writing inside the Gateless container.
But hold on! you might be thinking. It’s all very well and nice to know what’s working, but how are you supposed to get better if you don’t know what’s wrong with your writing?
I know you think this because I thought it too, because we all do. Because we live in a culture of criticism that teaches us that the way to improve something is to learn what is wrong with it. But when we become so attuned to what is wrong with our work and protect ourselves against the criticism we are sure to get when we share it, we talk ourselves out of creating anything at all. Not to mention the fact that we are already pretty good at seeing what’s wrong in our work. We are not as good at recognizing what’s good. That doesn’t mean you don’t edit your work. Of course you do. But to edit yourself before you’ve even started—well, that’s a surefire way to make sure you never write a word.
Gateless is scientifically based on brain science and the teachings of Zen Buddhism. Terri Trespicio, a Gateless trained teacher who was on that first Rhode Island retreat with me, quotes Suzanne in her book UNFOLLOW YOUR PASSION: “When criticism, competition and judgment are present, the amygdala goes into fight or flight—which makes it very hard to access imagination and memory, which are critical to writing.” What that means, Terri continues, “is that to reach our highest creative potential, the part of our brain associated with criticism and resistance needs to be quieted.”
For the next several years, I joined as many Gateless groups as I could—retreats, salons, online and in person. In 2021, I became a Gateless trained teacher. I wasn’t an English major and don’t have an MFA, but I absorbed countless craft lessons listening to writers share their work. By tuning into what was working in their work, I learned how to improve my own. I started to understand what made a line of dialogue pop or how to write a great description. How to start a scene and how to end one. How to find the emotional core of a moment or a scene. I had never thought about writing a novel before but after writing in the Gateless container, I believed I could do it.
Gateless changes people’s lives. They quit their jobs, leave their spouses. Within six months of the Rhode Island retreat, I started writing scenes for what would become MY LAST INNOCENT YEAR. Once you start looking at the world through a Gateless lens, things look different. The internalized critic is everywhere, and that voice is loud. Notice how you feel the next time someone tells you they want to give you some “feedback.” Think back to how many times someone tried to “fix” you or your work, to tell you what you were doing wrong, with a smile, so that you might make it better. Did that ever work? I don’t think so.
This isn’t really to sell you on Gateless, although I obviously highly recommend it. It’s about challenging what you’ve been taught, about writing, about yourself. It’s about getting out of your own way and trusting that you have the tools you need already.
Now things are coming full circle. Next Wednesday, February 15, more than eight years after meeting Suzanne, she I will be in conversation together at RJ Julia Booksellers in Madison, CT at 7:00 ET. I love talking to Suzanne about books and getting to talk to her about mine is a special treat. If you are in the area, I would love to see you there.
Here is a link to my website with all the details about my events. I will be doing some virtual events as well:
on Feb. 16 at 4PM ET, I will be live with Caroline Leavitt and A Mighty Blaze on their YouTube and Facebook pages. Link is here.
on Feb. 23 at 7PM ET, I will be live on Instagram with Sanjana Senthil. Link is here.
on April 5 at 7PM ET, I will be in conversation with Susan Scarf Merrell as part of the BookEnds BookClub. Link to event here, and also a link to order a signed copy of the book from Southampton Books!
I would love to see you IRL or online!
Pub day is almost here! Get your preorders in and your book will arrive on pub day, February 14! I had a nice surprise when I walked into my local Barnes and Noble last week…
I cannot tell you enough how much I love this post! Especially this part:
"I’ve done my best writing inside the Gateless container.
But hold on! you might be thinking. It’s all very well and nice to know what’s working, but how are you supposed to get better if you don’t know what’s wrong with your writing?
I know you think this because I thought it too, because we all do. Because we live in a culture of criticism that teaches us that the way to improve something is to learn what is wrong with it. But when we become so attuned to what is wrong with our work and protect ourselves against the criticism we are sure to get when we share it, we talk ourselves out of creating anything at all. Not to mention the fact that we are already pretty good at seeing what’s wrong in our work. We are not as good at recognizing what’s good. That doesn’t mean you don’t edit your work. Of course you do. But to edit yourself before you’ve even started—well, that’s a surefire way to make sure you never write a word."
🥰 ✨🌟💖🙏🕊️
I’m reading this nearly one year after you wrote it, and what a year you have had! You are an inspiration and I am not flattering you. It’s true. I struggle and hem and haw and hesitate after leaving the Gateless container. The critic, she is a shrieking shrew! Online sessions are good and I’m glad to have them, but not really the same. I haven’t found an in-person group here in Minneapolis, but I won’t give up the search.