Heartwood Studio Free intro call

Write past the voice that says you can’t until you hear your own

Misha SumarI’m Misha Sumar. I run small creative writing workshops and one-on-one sessions online. We write from what you remember and feel, and leave the polishing for later.

See workshops and prices Write something now

I trained at Sarah Lawrence College and taught at the Brooklyn Writers Collective in New York. Writers, multi-disciplinary artists, multilinguals, and complete beginners are all welcome.

Tree rings growing out from a dark core, each ring labelled with a memory a writer might start from

What makes my workshops different

A straight dashed line for a fixed plan, and a hand-drawn line that bends through six weeks, each bend a theme from the writing where you’re from your mother’s voice the city you left a song you can’t finish a photo you kept what comes next week 1week 2week 3week 4week 5week 6 a fixed plana living syllabus

I plan each week around what you write

There’s no fixed curriculum. I read what the group writes and build the next week from the themes that come up, so the course takes the shape of the people in it.

Four antique wooden doors with carved lintels standing open, the four ways into each week: an open book for something to read, listen to, or watch; a stopwatch for timed prompts; a long hanging scroll for one long piece; and a path out into the open for something to do read, listen, watchtimed promptsa long piecesomething to do read, listen,watchtimedpromptsa longpiecesomethingto do

There’s more than one way in

Some weeks the words come easily and some weeks they don’t. So every week has four doors in: something to read, listen to, or watch; timed prompts; one longer piece; and something to do away from your desk, like a walk without your phone or calling an old friend to hear a story. A lot of writing happens off the page.

Two cups of chai facing each other; their steam meets in the middle as a sound wave, which becomes a written page interview each other record it transcribe it you your buddy

You won’t be writing alone

Writing doesn’t happen in a vacuum, so for the whole course you’re paired with an interview buddy. Each week you interview each other on a topic I give you, record the conversation, and transcribe it afterwards. You get to hear your own stories through someone else’s questions.

Under a crescent moon, steps going down from dry ground into water that gets deeper: safe on the top step, stretch in the shallows, and in the deep, unknown territory, where a heart-shaped gem glows above the seabed: what you didn’t know you could write safe stretch one step deeper unknown territory what you didn’t know you could write

I’ll be gentle, and I’ll push you a little

My teaching is a balance of gentleness and challenge. You always have safe ground to stand on, and when you’re ready I’ll ask you to go one step deeper into territory you haven’t written before. That’s often where people find writing they didn’t know was in them.

One handwritten line branches three ways: into a short stanza, a poem; onto a stave with notes, a song; and into a looping ribbon, a movement a line you wrote a poem a song a movement

Your writing doesn’t have to stay on the page

I’ve worked with artists who turned what they wrote in class into music, theatre, and movement. If you’ve ever wondered what makes a poem a song, or how words move, we can find out together.

Write without stopping

Want to know what a class feels like? Try an exercise we do every week. Choose a prompt and a time, then keep writing until the clock runs out, without stopping.

Write about a kitchen you remember. Begin with what was on the table.

minutes

0 words

Your writing stays in this browser. Nothing is sent or saved.

How my workshops feel

Every group is different, but some things happen in almost all of them.

A page of handwriting: the first lines are crossed out, the lines below get looser, and the last line runs off the page in a free loop that ends in a star minute one minute ten

You stop crossing things out

With the clock running there’s no time to judge a sentence, so you just keep going. People are often surprised by what comes out once the critic in their head can’t keep up.

A ripe mango pierced by the nib of a pen; juice runs out of it, drips onto a page, and becomes a line of writing the right question what comes out

It might get emotional

Writing from memory stirs things up. One question can catch you off guard, and suddenly you’re writing about something you haven’t said out loud in years. Tears and laughter are both welcome.

Two pomegranates: a whole one, plain and closed, and one split open, full of bright seeds, with stars around it before the prompt twenty minutes later

You surprise yourself

My favourite moment in any workshop is when someone reads back what they’ve just written and looks up, a little stunned. They had no idea that was in them.

Five pages pegged on a washing line, side by side: prose, a poem, your page, a song, and a movement. Three people below read them: one reads a page they took down, one points up at yours, and one stands with their hands behind their back, looking up. your page

Strangers become your first readers

There are never more than ten of us, so everyone gets heard. You get to know each other through your writing, and by the last week the group knows things about you that some old friends don’t.

What students say

A person sitting cross-legged, writing in a notebook on their lap, with a small seedling sprouting from the top of their head

“Misha’s intuitive teaching deepened the process, inviting us to write about life from within it.”

Price Christian
A person standing with both arms up, letting a paper crane fly away along a dotted trail

“I am forever changed since starting classes with Misha. I can’t write without her!”

Ri Kennedy
A person standing at ease, eyes closed, in the middle of growth rings drawn on the ground round their feet, the newest and outermost ring in marigold

“Misha doesn’t just work with your writing, she works with YOU and who YOU are at that specific moment.”

Ard Kok

Workshops and prices

Not sure which suits you? The first conversation is free.

Six-week workshop

Six evenings of two hours with up to ten people. We start from your writing and build each week around it. Next groups start in January 2027.

Online
€245
Ask for a place

Private sessions

One-on-one sessions for writers, experienced or first-time, and for multi-disciplinary artists. We work from your first ideas to a finished body of work.

One hour
€75
Four sessions
€280
Start with a free call

Open Write

One hour of guided writing in good company, online. For now it runs on donations.

Next one
Date soon
Donation
€10–20
Join the next one

I also bring sessions to groups

For festivals, teams and community spaces. Tell me who’s coming and I’ll shape the writing around them.

Plan a group session

All prices include BTW. Each workshop group has one pay-what-you-can place.

Misha Sumar

About me

I’m a Pakistani writer and born storyteller. I moved to the United States in 2012 to study at Sarah Lawrence College, and I’ve been part of the Brooklyn Writers Collective since 2020. I joined as a writer and went on to teach there, first assisting and then leading my own workshops. My writing has appeared in Thimble Literary Magazine.

These days I live in the Netherlands with two good friends and my emotionally unavailable rescue dog. I teach online, and I build installations with the creative team of Familiar Forest Festival.

Why I teach

I love helping a poem find a person at the moment they need it most, or asking a question that punctures something in the writer and allows new ideas and questions to ooze out.

Why I teach

Questions

I’m not sure I’m a real writer. Is this for me?

Yes. When I joined the Brooklyn Writers Collective, I was hesitant to call myself a writer, too. You don’t need any experience.

Can I read some of your writing?

Yes. My piece “Karachi” was published in Thimble Literary Magazine in 2023, and you can read it here. More pieces will follow.

Do I have to share my writing?

Only if you want to. You can pass any week.

What language are the workshops in?

English. I’ve worked with Dutch writers, too, and you’re welcome to write in your own language.

I write songs or make theatre. Is this for me?

Yes. I’ve worked with artists who turned their class writing into music, theatre, and movement.

What happens in the free conversation?

We talk for twenty minutes about what you’d like to write and which option suits you.

Can I pay less?

Each workshop group has one pay-what-you-can place, and Open Write runs on donations. Just ask.

Write to me

Tell me a little about what you’d like to write. I reply within two days.

mishasumar@gmail.com

I’m interested in

I only use your details to reply.

Karachi

Misha Sumar

First published in Thimble Literary Magazine, Fall 2023.

Six-week workshop

Ask for a place