It happens slowly, over time, imperceptible to the untrained heart. Writing groups do not last. It is in their nature to change then stabilize, grow then shrink, call attention to itself then go underground as needed by the members of the group.
Writers groups are skittish things. Writers, being the independent loaners that they are created to be, can't survive within a group for long and still remain independent writers. Writing is a personal, independent activity. Successful writers share only the bare minimum facts about their ongoing projects to a selected few and trusted friends. Every writer knows, when the project leaks out, it loses its power.
To belong to a group, one must take on at least part of the group's personality, philosophy and motivation for existing. Sometimes a person must swear allegiance or make a promise of keeping private information shared within the group - "What is said here, stays here." Some writing groups make you sign a contract and pay dues. Once an individual is in a group, the individual must change in some way to fit into the group.
To belong to a writing group there must be an exchange of trust. I read my poem and trust that no one is recording it or writing it down or going to use a snippet of it for their blog - "Gee, that poem sounds a lot like the poem I read at writers group."
Trust is a delicate thing and easily broken. I send things to you to read and comment on and I then never hear from you. What did you do with my work? Now I’m worried that I will see my book on the shelves at Barnes and Noble with a bright shiny cover and a new title.
In a writing group it is difficult to know what to say without ruffling feathers. Someone reads the first few pages of their novel out loud and asks for comments. What do I say? I ask. Be totally honest, they say, which is a lie, or perhaps a statement in ignorance. I tell them it sounds like great background, but there is no hint of a plot yet. What is Barbara's problem? Why does it matter to me? Try starting with a hook, I say, an action that draws me in, you know, like "Barbara sat on the beach crying. She held a small sandal in her hand."
Now the writer who is being critiqued is quiet. Next month she doesn't show up. I feel horrible.
This happens in writing groups on a regular basis.
Writers come and go in a group. Not every writer feels the need to belong to a writing group, but they need to visit a few times to learn that for themselves.
Writing groups should not be forced. If a writing group is losing members, it doesn't mean the group has been unsuccessful. It simply means the group has begun to die or change. Death and change is natural.
Like caterpillars, writing groups go through a stage of crawling and eating, sucking up all sorts information and growing fat. Some caterpillars are eaten by birds and some die off from disease. Some writers, once they hear criticism from a group, leave to have their unedited Magnum Opus self-published. Some, once they find out how much hard work writing really, quit.
Like caterpillars, writers cocoon. They have eaten all the information they can hold and now they want to create something with it. Some writers go to meetings during this process. Most don't. Some writers die inside the cocoon, some are still alive but never emerge.
Once a writer breaks out of the cocoon and stretches it's wings, all they can think about is flying. When a writer flies, it is to explore the new writer world and create other writers. Most flying writers never return to the writing group. They get published. They get a writing job that takes all their energy. Now they no longer have much in common with the other members of the group or are looked at as an outsider because they have gone to the next level. What do caterpillars have to do with butterflies?
That's OK. Every writer is different.
I have read of successful writing groups that have existed for years and I am envious. I read once about a group of four writers that committed to helping each other publish a novel. They knew the pain of hurt feelings, but they urged each other on and encouraged each other to keep attending, keep working. All four are now published authors. They still meet.
This group is rare.
Other groups exist only for “professional development.” They have speakers every meeting and share their own writing on a rare occasion. These groups don’t hold each other accountable to produce. Knowledgeable writers populate this group. They know their stuff. They own dozens of books on writing and go to lots of conferences. Some are not published, but most members talk about their “one day” often. Dues are paid. Authors sell their books here and sign them.
Just because the writing group has died doesn't mean writing is no longer taking place. My writing groups have all died. Two have been reborn to nourish more writers.
That all said, the best part about going to a writing group is the chance to meet writers that agree with your way of doing things, that share the same hopes and dreams and – on rare occasions – are willing to read your novel and give you feed back. I still have writing buddies from all four of my writing groups. We swap stories, ask each other for critiques, and cheer each other on when a goal is accomplished.
To all my writer friends, past, present and future: Keep writing. Remember who you are. Remember why you started the crazy, impossible project to begin with. Write about you. Write about your life. Write about things that make you angry, happy, excited, or inspired. Write badly. Write well. If you can write humor, please, by all means – write. The world needs humor.
But don’t quit your day job. Rawlings was working as a waitress when she hatched Harry Potter. Grisham had stories running in his head while practicing law. The day job is what gives us fuel for our characters and their problems. Keeping the day job creates a yearning inside that most of us need as motivation to get up early and get the 500 words in before trotting off to the factory.
You don’t need a writing group to write. I have found that, for me anyway, a writing group, while fun some of the time, hinders my personal projects. I’m so worried about producing whatever it is I must bring to the writing group that the other fun stuff gets left on the shelf or in the file on my desktop. Instead, seek out an occasional writing conference, class or workshop. Find a writer to talk to. Maybe you’ll be blessed with a few that will create something with you.
In closing, allow me to share a quote about writing by Robert Harris, author of The Ghost – one of the best I’ve ever read:
“Of all human activities, writing is the one for which it is easiest to find excuses not to begin – the desk’s too big, the desk’s too small, there’s too much noise, there’s too much quiet, it’s too hot, too cold, too early, too late. I had learned over the years to ignore them all and simply to start. I plugged in my laptop, switched on the lamp, and contemplated the blank screen and its pulsing cursor.
“A book unwritten is a delightful universe of infinite possibilities. Set down one word, however, and immediately it becomes earthbound. Set down one sentence and it’s halfway to being just like every other bloody book that’s ever been written. But the best must never be allowed to drive out the good. In the absence of genius there is always craftsmanship. One can at least try to write something that will arrest the readers’ attention that will encourage them, after reading the first paragraph, to take a look at the second, and then the third.”
