How To Start and Maintain a Writer’s Group
You’ve taken a writing course. Maybe you’ve taken several writing courses. You have a collection of books on writing, and you refer to them regularly. You have a blog. Maybe you’ve even been published. What’s next?
The cheapest and next best professional step for writers to move forward in their career while at the same time practicing their craft is to form a Writer’s Group. Following are some suggestions based on what has worked for me over the years.
Start With A Dream.
After blogging for a couple of years, and taking writing courses, I thought it would be good to talk with like-minded people about the incredible task of putting words down on paper. I’d found several groups that were looking for colleagues but they were all too far along in their careers, and while they were as gentle as possible, they made it clear I wouldn’t be a good fit for their groups.
So I brainstormed ideas for my dream writer’s group. If I couldn’t find one I fit into, I’d make one up.
Think about what you need and want from a group. Do you hope to write a book and only want to work with writers with the same goal? Do you want to go through a book about writing and complete exercises from that book? Will your group be open to all genres of study? How many people are you hoping to have? When would you like to meet? Where?
I made up a plan, typed it up, and hung it in my local library, Starbucks, and the Writer’s Center where I often took classes. I wanted 4-5 writers of different ages, who were studying different genres, and who had an established writing routine.
I asked for anyone interested to contact me via email, to tell me a little about where they were in their career, and to send me a sample of their writing.
Don’t let the fact that you’re just starting out stop you from treating your dream professionally. Don’t let anything stop you from moving forward with your writing goals. If what you want isn’t available, create it.
Eat, Drink, and Set Up Some Routines.
My fantasy of a Writer’s Group, was sitting in a cozy pub with our notebooks and pens on a weekday evening, the likes of JRR Tolkien and CS Lewis. I think writing is serious business, but I also think it’s about communing with one another, and sharing a slice of cake and/or a pint of beer is a great way to ease into the heftiness of the work you’ll be doing.
Once my group was established, we met at Le Madeleine in Bethesda, Maryland, a cozy French café that stayed open late, and had fireplaces and thick, wooden tables that I loved. We were a group of five. There was a playwright, someone writing fiction, a couple of memoir writers, and I was writing essays. We met once a month for a couple of hours. The first 30 minutes we socialized, but after that, it was critique time and it worked like this:
A week before we met, everyone sent their writing to each other; no more than 1800 words. We each commented on everyone’s writing, but only one of us was orally critiqued each month.
If it was your turn, you came with your writing, and took notes while everyone took a turn critiquing your work. During this time, you didn’t respond. When everyone was finished, you could respond by asking questions, clarifying, or making note of where you might be able to strengthen the story.
It’s a lesson in listening, in absorbing information so that you can think about it analytically and not emotionally, and for the group, it’s a lesson in how to communicate professionally and respectfully.
For critique, we made observations and comments directly on our colleagues’ writing, but we also responded to the following prompts:
I think this piece is about…
One thing I love about this piece….
One question I have….
This piece made me think…
This piece made me feel….
Suggestions for reading (books, essays, poetry)….
Don’t Lose Yourself In The Edit.
This is one of my favorite lines from Kate Schelter’s book, Classic Style and I think it applies perfectly to the critiquing process. We form Writer’s Groups for the accountability of becoming better writers. This is painful at times. If you’re in a group you trust and respect, then your colleagues are taking great pains to pull the best out of you. Take what they say and use that to better your story – not disguise your voice.
I’ve heard writers say after they’ve been published that they don’t recognize their story. This is a small tragedy, and it means the editor didn’t do her job. It also means the writer allowed herself to be lost. Remember the world wants the story only you can tell. Use your colleagues to help you do that.
I’m writing this on what feels like day infinity of the Covid-19 Pandemic, and now, more than ever, I think we ought to work hard to make our stories the best they can be, so we can share them with the world. Currently, we can’t meet in a café, or in peoples’ homes, but consider Zoom, FaceTime, and Google Hangouts. After all, stories are about connections – they know no boundaries.
