The 2025 Tin House Spring YA Workshop

*Rolls up to the blog 9 months late without Starbucks b/c I’m caffeine-intolerant now* How’s it going, friends? As promised, here is my write-up on the 2025 Tin House Spring YA Workshop, for which I was lucky enough to be chosen as a participant.

The workshop took place over a long weekend, May 29th - June 2nd, at the Bishop & Wilde bookstore and neighboring Tin House compound in Portland, Oregon. I decided to go a few days early because I anticipated falling head-over-heels for Portland and needing ample time to explore.

I was right.

Portland is an inland city on a river. The Willamette River, specifically, which spills into the larger Columbia River to the north. Twelve large bridges span the Willamette, connecting the east and west sides of the city. I didn’t know that going in and was so excited when I realized I wouldn’t have to be near the ocean for a while.

I become physically unwell if separated from my titanium racing bike for too long, so I packed it up in a box and checked it into the cargo hold on the plane. One of the better ideas I’ve had in my life. The bike opened up the entire city for me. I rode it all over Portland, east to west and north to south, and managed to never cross the same bridge twice.

I lived hard in Portland. I had several full and representative days in the life of Claire, which are what I call days where I get to do all of my favorite things. Days of self-actualizing, where I live the life I dream about living in my head.

I went to the Wildfang outlet. I got an ear piercing. I practiced aerial straps at the Jaja PDX Circus studio in East Portland, even unlocking a move that, up until then, had been extraordinarily painful to pull off. I went to the famous Powell’s City of Books and wandered the stacks for hours. I stumbled upon a Rose City Rollers roller derby scrimmage while biking south along the Willamette bike trail. I read books over rich cocktails at patio bars at sunset. I joined a sunset bike group ride around the city. I found a close-out sale for Poler, a really cool and stylish outdoor clothing and equipment brand, and outfitted myself accordingly. And every day, I feasted on sushi and day-old pizza slices using the Too Good To Go app.

I’m in love with Portland, Oregon. Which poses a slight issue, as I currently live in Boston, Massachusetts. But that can change. And I hope it will.

The workshop started officially on Thursday afternoon, after a glorious morning spent in the Nob Hill area exploring the Snow Peak camping store and trying on clothing at the Prana outlet. The lucky writers of the YA Workshop all gathered at Bishop and Wild for Lance Cleland’s opening speech and introduction to the weekend. The workshop leaders all introduced themselves, then we all split off into our workshop groups to meet and greet.

Y’all. I loved my workshop group. Not only was Aiden Thomas a true delight and master of the craft, but my fellow workshop attendees were brilliant and creative also. We all brought a book to share with the group, one that we felt profoundly affected our work and our life. I was going to bring Andy Weir’s Project: Hail Mary, but couldn’t find a paperback (cheap) copy at Powell’s books, so I ended up bringing The Martian. Which, upon reflection, works just as well, if not better.

When I was twenty years old and freshly graduated from college, I finally got my first Smartphone, a Motorola Droid Turbo. Knowing then that I was going to live a migratory, outdoor-focused life for the next several years, I downloaded Amazon Kindle so I wouldn’t have to haul physical books around. My first purchase from the Kindle store? The Martian.

I don’t remember why. It was 2015, a lot’s happened since then. But I do remember, through various weeklong backpacking trips, training clinics, long-haul flights, cross-country drives, and nights spent camped in the back of my RAV4, opening The Martian to any old page and always enjoying what I found. That’s something very few novels manage to achieve. A pacing that’s so immaculate, every single part of the book is enjoyable and there’s not a single chapter where you’re like, “Eh, I know the story need it, but that part really wasn’t that interesting.” A reminder to all writers to aim high, because it’s doable.

The best part? I wasn’t the only person to bring a sci-fi novel. Two other people in my workshop group actually brought the same one: To Be Taught, If Fortunate, by Becky Chambers. I’m a big fan of her Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet series, so I went to Powell’s and bought a used copy of the novella after we’d wrapped up for the day and wasn’t disappointed. Chambers sure can write a good sci-fi book. We all passed our books to the person on our left to take home with them and read, and I was lucky enough to pass The Martian to thee Aiden Thomas of Cemetery Boys fame. If we get a trans MLM YA space opera from him in the next couple of years, you’re welcome.

The Tin House gang at a nearby pizza place after Thursday’s opener.

I should mention, Aiden Thomas’ contribution to our book swap was Water Moon by Samantha Sotto Yambao. I rented the book from the Boston Public Library after I got home and will highly recommend it. Reading Water Moon was like watching a Spirited Away-esque Studio Ghibli movie, complete with dimension hopping, Japanese mask-wearing monsters, and ramen shops serving as gateways to the spirit world.

On Friday and Saturday, we met in our workshop groups to workshop pieces of writing from each group member. This was my first traditional workshopping experience, the kind where everyone sits at a table together and gives the writer their critiques. Ugh, it was so good. I’d love the chance to do more of it someday. Not to mention the sheer talent of my fellow group members. My God, I felt truly honored to have been selected to be in a group with them.

We also did readings for the entire Tin House YA cohort of around twenty-five people. I read part of my first chapter of Hand Magic, meaning I got to do my Irish accent for everyone. People stopped laughing after the first time I spoke in the accent, so I like to think I did a good job once the surprise wore off. I really enjoyed reading out loud to the group. Not only this, but the pro-author workshop leaders read aloud as well. It’s great hearing the professionals at work and knowing how you can improve. Confidence really is key.

And of course, the craft intensives! Each workshop leader gave a short seminar on an aspect of the craft of writing, e.g. Pacing, Writing the Specific to Achieve the Universal, etc. That part was really great too, and I felt like I came away with a lot of good tips.

The workshop wasn’t just writing and reading, of course. No Tin House Workshop could ever be complete without karaoke and tequila shots, so of course, there was plenty of that.

There were also day-hikes around the nearby forests, a romp through several craft markets, and many lunches and dinners out on the town. Tin House Workshop made sure we not only got to focus on writing, but also on the beautiful city of Portland and how lucky we were to be there, for which I’ll always be grateful.

Leaving at the end of the weekend was hard. Sure, much of it was technically a vacation, but I’m certain that living in Portland would feel much the same. Like my life in Salt Lake City in my early twenties, when I worked almost every day, but never forgot how lucky and happy I was to live in the most beautiful place on Earth. I left Portland on Monday with a canvas Tin House Books bag full of craft handouts, a beautiful overstock copy of Tin House magazine, and a week’s worth of gorgeous memories of Portland in May.

So if you need to find me at any point in the next few years, you can reasonably assume I’m in Portland, Oregon, making my life, writing my books, and riding my bike whenever there’s enough sunlight to see the roads.

Best of luck with your writing projects. Don’t worry, I’ll post again soon!

xx Claire