Writing in Community: by guest blogger Barbara G Tucker

Stop me if you’ve heard this one. A woman walked into a writers’ group….

Okay, I admit it, this is not the start of a joke. It is something that really happened and led to a good bit of angst and reflection.

About five months ago, a woman did attend the writers group that I belong to in Ft. Oglethorpe. A little background: our group has been meeting twice a month, except for November and December, for twelve years. We’ve had several turnovers in membership, of course, but we’re still at it, even with the same meeting times: every second and fourth Thursday at 3:00, same general location, and same protocols. On Sunday evenings before the meetings, each member can submit ten double-spaced pages electronically to the others, and we meet to discuss them, along with providing digital comments returned through email.

No oral reading, no late submissions, and no wine. And no whine-ing, either.

Having been together so long, we have become friends, of a sort, and perhaps a little exclusive. A new member has to assimilate to the group, rather than try to change us or our procedures. And some have tried, unsuccessfully. They have then left in frustration and criticism. But those who stay know this: they will get honest, thorough, and very smart critiques about their submissions.

My latest novel with Colorful Crow Publishing, Sudden Future, went through this group in its early stages. So did two of my others, Bringing Abundance Back and Long Lost Justice, as did C.S. Devereaux’s Fall from Snowbird Mountain (Jumpmaster Press, 2023) and its sequel, Barbara Paper’s Moonflyers, Anne Melton’s poetry chapbook Fragile Islands, four of Bruce Gaughran’s five novels, and other shorter published pieces by Pam Pettyjohn and Ray Zimmerman. You can see why I’m pretty committed to it, although my day job often prevents my attending.

Which brings me back to the non-joke at the beginning. The woman who attended came to a meeting in February looking for something. I am not sure what. Perhaps she was hunting for affirmation, for the members to tell her how good her writing was. She was visiting, so she hadn’t read the submissions or submitted anything herself. She came and tried to take over the meeting, interrupting the critiques of other members’ works with self-disclosures, lots of them. Because she wanted to join, she did send something in for the next meeting.

Her piece—14 pages single-spaced, in violation of our rules (which are in place because of the extensive time it takes to closely read and critique others’ work)—was unusual, to say the least. The writing was unfocused, unedited in any way, and really, incoherent. It was a mix of mysticism, fundamentalist prophecy, Jung and psychotherapy, feminism, and her life story of sexual belittling and physical abuse.

People have pain. This woman has experienced a lot of it. I say that kindly. She wrote about it, in detail. There were some kernels of the beginning of a good memoir in that writing. The thing is, she didn’t need a writers group. We were not qualified to address her concerns that came out in the writing.

And when we offered critiques, honest and I believe diplomatic ones, she lashed out. Rather vitriolically. I was accused of something rather heinous, which was therefore hurtful to me (I got over it in ten seconds, though). She spread her hurt to others. If you’re wondering, she said that because I didn’t like her writing, I didn’t care about abused children.

What did we do wrong? Anything? I am still trying to figure it out. In retrospect, I could have written something different. I may have been too specific in my critique--as were the other members, but we didn't treat her any different from others or how we had been treated. Perhaps we did not explain who we are clearly enough before she attended the first time.

I have to conclude that people may come to a writers' group for reasons that might not be what a writers' group, any writers' group, can provide.

I think about writing a lot. I teach it for a living (not creative writing, though), I write at least a dozen hours per week, and I mentor other writers. I firmly believe that writing should be done in community and for community. While the act is solitary and often requires isolation from others, writing is also only fulfilling its worthwhile purpose when it is shared. That’s not just true of the end result; I believe it’s true of the process.

Therefore, I am a big fan of writers’ groups, although I recognize that the way I go about writing in community isn’t for everyone. Some may only need one or two writing partners, not nine or ten like I now have. Some may prefer to read out loud in the group. However, the way words (and punctuation) look on a page matters. Some may prefer to pay for help. Others may want a more relaxed atmosphere and even shuddered when they read about my group’s “rules of engagement.” Some may feel the wine lubricates the critique process. Either way, we all need input from others on the way to finishing our projects. And we need to take that input seriously.

If I were to list the main ingredients for writing in community or partnership, I would list trust as the first one and the last one.

Trust in their good intentions. Those who stick with my group do so for the honesty but also the total lack of ego and jealousy.

Trust in their good judgment. These people are readers, not just writers. They know what good writing is.

Trust in their commitment. They will take the time to read slowly and thoughtfully.

Trust in their objectivity. Sometimes a member will say, “I don’t like …. “ (fill in the blank with a genre). But they read it and give a fair critique anyway. (And they receive one, except for one member who liked to describe genitalia; that person got a good talking to.)

Trust does not come from one meeting. It comes from time, just as good writing does.

A writers’ group also needs a room of its own, a conducive place to meet. That is almost as hard as building the trust. We have met at a library, a restaurant, back to the library, and now a literacy center. The group also needs an agreeable meeting time, which is probably harder to find that a meeting space.

As for the woman who attended our meeting and never came back, I have some regrets. I hope she found a community, but for more than writing because I suspect she is lonely and angry. We need community and connection for our lives, our faith, our minds, our spirits, not just our art. Post-COVID, we need it more than we ever did. I consider my writing community folks a great gift, and I hope they consider me one as well.

I sincerely hope you can find such a gift.