In Praise of Not Going It Alone
Writing is an essentially solitary task. We sit a table or a desk or with a laptop in our—well,
lap—and we think hard. We’re silent. We relive past emotions. We imagine things in technicolor. We have imaginary friends. Nobody can do it for us. And yet I would like to suggest that one of
the best New Year’s resolutions any writer can make is to become involved with a writers’
group. These loose associations of like-minded people offer two extremely valuable returns.
Two Heads Are Better
The first return is critique. While your family and non-writing friends are likely to praise your
work uncritically because they love you but don’t really understand, your writing buddies know
that you want the hard truth. Ideally, they’ll be people who can deliver the hard truth kindly and
constructively (see Seek, below). They will also praise the right things in your writing: really
punchy verbs, imaginative images, unexpected turns of plot. They will offer no vague “It’s very
nice” critiques, but will say things like “I really cared about your character” or “Your first
chapter didn’t pull me in.” That’s because they know from their own experience the sort of
specific, practical insights that will be useful to you. And, they know that you will be critiquing
their work soon. A critique may contain criticism, but it also contains much more.
United We Stand
The second return is solidarity. This is pronounced the same as support, encouragement, and
motivation. Just knowing that you have to read something to the group every two or four weeks
is a powerful spur to your productivity. And who is better equipped to sympathize when you hit a
dry spot or can’t get an agent or feel jerked around by the system than those buddies who have
been through the same thing? You may find, as I have, that these people become some of your
best friends. That’s because you have revealed your vulnerabilities and dreams to one another. You’ve laid out your souls on the pages you’ve handed one another. And you’ve forged the
bonds of shared suffering.
Seek and You Shall Find
Needless to say, such a relationship can only be built where there is trust, compatibility, and a
more or less equal level of writing skill. I can compare my own experience with that of my
cousin to make this point.
The writers’ group to which I am fortunate enough to belong is composed of six women who
were already friends and neighbors (it’s a university town). We grow by cooption: someone
suggests a prospective member whom they know to be congenial and a serious writer. Some of
them are poets; some write short stories; some write creative fiction; and others, novels. All are
voracious readers. Some have degrees in English but most don’t. Some are published, some are
not. But they’re all really good. And don’t think a poet can’t give you superb insight into a
novel! They know how to deliver criticism with kindness and humor. There has never been any
rancor or hurt feelings. Lucky me.
My cousin, on the other hand, fell in with a very large group, with open admission to anyone of
any level of skill. Some were very accomplished, others the rawest beginners who expected to be
praised when what they really needed was good, stern critique. Perhaps the group was helpful to
those at the bottom of the skill set, as their betters lifted them up, but those at the top found they
got little in return. Some people ended up dominating the group; others felt too threatened to
criticize them or even expose themselves to critique. Eventually the group fell apart. Unlucky
her. But unless you live in a remote place in the boonies, you’re going to find the group that’s right
for you. FWA has groups in many cities. Or you might want to form your own with fellow
writers you know are serious. Here’s a New Year’s resolution you can keep!