First and foremost let me say, I LOVE critique groups! There is no better way to improve as a writer/author than to get feedback from your writing peers/colleagues. I am the president (not as glamorous as it may seem) of a local writers group. In 2013 I approached 5 writers in the group to ask if they would like to form a critique group. (wow. I just used "group" a lot. *shudder*)
I was so happy when they said yes.
For over a year we brought our babies to the table once a month and they bled! Not in horrific and heartless ways that make you go home and sob while consuming a carton of Cookies N Cream. This was more like a leeching. Sounds way better, right? With care we pointed out what worked and what didn't work with one another's stories and (those of us who were baby writers) we began to grow. We lost 2 members early on. The following year we lost a third. It was down to 3 and we kept plugging along.
I'm not the most disciplined writer. While I was working on my historical novel all was well. Then I finished and started my next WIP. At chapter 6 I hit a roadblock. Or brainblock. Fear not, my critique group didn't give up on me. They critiqued short stories I began working on as well as a novella. They were there for me in my time of great struggle with words of encouragement. I love them for that.
And then it happened.
It is inevitable that a group will, eventually, fizzle out. Life intervenes where it once didn't and people stop submitting. In my case, I ended up chasing down critiques that I never received. It's not a big deal to anyone other than me, but it made me realize the state of the group. At least where I was concerned.
One person in a group of (now) 5 was critiquing my work. So if only 1 person is taking the time to read why do I need to be in the group? Surely we can be partners and nothing will really change. So I made the decision to walk away.
I'm sad that the baby I was so excited to see grow has, in a sense, grown out of me. But I'm not angry because I do understand that these things happen. Groups disband, members leave.
So what do you do when it's the end of an era?
You keep writing and you keep submitting your work to the partners who do critique your work. I have 2 writers, both dear women who get me, I look to for critique. They're not afraid to call me out on my shit when I half ass the work, and they're happy to tell me when I've done something right.
That's the important thing about critique; having partners who aren't afraid to tell it to you straight. Sometimes it's hard as hell to take. In October I was down in the mouth for a couple of days after critique, but not because my critique partners did anything wrong. It's because they were right. I rewrote the chapter and the next month my critique partner told me it was much stronger.
That's the thing about partners; they're there to help you grow.
I left my critique group, but I know I still need critique. I'm not a writer who's above receiving a little help from my friends. I'll never stop advocating critique groups, whether online or in person, to new writers. They are, in my opinion, fundamental to the growth of a writer.
While leaving the group is something I never thought I would do, I know it's the right step. For me.
**Reposted from Prompting365.com**
Lately I have heard or seen this statement a multitude of times: writers crave the experience. Maybe it's because I've spent the last two weekends binge watching Girls, the HBO show created by Lena Dunham, that I feel like this "truth" is being hammered into my head. Hannah, Dunham's character, often does things (mostly sexual) for "the experience". You see, Hannah is a writer. In the first season she is working on a book of essays. Not being one who writes essays, I can only assume they are like her journal entries all put into one book of like reflections for the masses to consume.
Maybe "masses" is too broad a term. For a select group of people may be better. Though, I believe Lena Dunham's memoir, which she signed a $3.5 million deal with Random House in 2012, is still sitting at #16 on Amazon's bestselling essays list. I suppose more people than I imagined are sitting around reading essays.
They're just not my thing.
But what about experience? I've always believed I have very little. My experience is limited to being married at 17 and raising 3 children. I've been a few places in my adult life; the Bahamas in 2002 where a man tried to get me to take a walk with him on the very dark beach. Ummm... No, and Nashville in 2011 where I stayed in my hotel room the entire time because the two guys that were with me (in separate rooms, people. Jeez) were too boring to go out after class. How do you not go out in Nashville? It's Nashville!
Anyway, so my experiences have been limited. Does this hinder my writing? Do writers crave experiences? Even the bad ones?
I think we do, to a degree. It's not that we want to go through the hard stuff. Who does that? But we want to know how it feels in order to write more clearly about it. In order to say, "Hey, I know what I'm talking about."
So is this inherent craving...presumed craving why I feel restless at least once a year? Is this my creative brain screaming at me, "Give me something to work with!" Or is it an inevitability in life that a human being will be restless at least once a year?
I've never written about the time in the Bahamas when, after belting out You're the One that I Want with my mom and sister at the bar, I stepped outside for some air and knew the waiter would follow me. He'd been watching our table for more than half an hour. I knew he would follow any of us outside. I just happened to be the one who needed air. This experience did not translate to a story on the page.
So do we need experiences as much as we crave them?
Maybe it's a middle of the road thing. I have experience with an over sexualized childhood, heartbreak, immense love, and crippling social anxiety. I have experience with watching a human being die, his heart beat dropping and finally ceasing long after he'd checked out of this world. I have experience with watching a human life be born, and with birthing several. I have experience with losing a fetus after hearing a strong heartbeat, all because my body broke down. Putting them all together, I guess I have a wealth of experience, though they are not the experiences I thought I would have. As a pre-teen discovering my talent for creating stories, I thought I would live what Hollywood told me a writers life is. I thought it would be me against the world, traveling and gathering experiences, telling stories. But I'm no free spirit, not in that way. I have no desire to stuff all of my belongings into the backseat of my car and drive away.
Not anymore.
It's easy to dream of running away when times are hard, or the kids are screaming at one another, but I think the idea of living free is better suited for someone in their 20s, someone who still believes they can take on the world. The closer I get to 40, the more I realize I need to work with the world. It's not about conquering it, it's about living in it.
Maybe it's not a lack of experience that hinders the writer (or the story). Perhaps it is growing up and realizing we can't tell the same stories we always have. It's time to change the narrative, if you will. After all, incidences in life don't, necessarily, give one experience. To do something once is simply a one off. Yes, you experienced that moment, but it didn't lead to experience.
Maybe I'm way off. Or maybe I am all over the place. But for me, at least, I believe I have become a stronger writer (though perpetually crippled by my lack of success) because I have experienced this life; my life. It isn't the same life I might have had if I'd gone to college straight out of high school and moved to a big city, but anyone who knows me will tell you I am not a city girl. Give me a population of 3,000 and I am moderately happy, though I would prefer a population of 1,500.
With everything else, I suppose there is no clear answer to my quandary. Some might tell me experience is everything to a writer, and I wouldn't be able to disagree. I guess it's all in what you consider experience to be.
What are your thoughts?
**REPOSTED FROM PROMPTING 365**
I've lived my entire life asleep, I think. Moving through moments in a fog of waking. I think I did this as a child, too. Never quite grasping a moment because I was too preoccupied.
So what am I doing?
I used to attribute this lack of earthly focus to a creative mind. I've been writing stories since I was 12, and play acting since well before then. But is that it? Have I simply been lost in a world of make believe?
Can I only see that now because I'm waking up?
In my twenties I was constantly writing. Before getting a computer (yes, those days existed), I was either writing down my stories on paper or typing them, first on an electric typewriter loaned to me and, finally, on my mother-in-law's word processor. I wrote the first draft of my debut novel two lines at a time because that's all you could see on that tiny little screen. My mind was filled with stories and my hands were eager to share them. Although I was totally green, and my stories were diamonds in the rough, I wrote.
Then came the computer and I was in heaven. An entire screen to view my work! At the time my husband and I were living in 3 rooms with our children. He and I slept in the living room while they got the bedroom. In those days I stayed up all hours of the night pounding the keyboard with my words. Poor hubby used to have to plug his ears to block out the sounds of my frantic storytelling. Now he's merely blocking out the sounds of my snoring.
Granted, we no longer live in 3 rooms. But even if we did, the keyboard is scarcely on fire these days. The story ideas aren't drying up, but the drive to bring them to life certainly is.
Or seems to be.
So I wonder if I am waking from my dreaming state. Am I giving up on the one thing I have wanted for most of my life?
I've been thinking about this for some time. Wondering if I am finally disenchanted by the exhaustive climb to the top, the summit where I am finally published and recognized. When I began my quest I wanted to become a bestselling novelist. It didn't take long before I realized the lives of novelists portrayed by Hollywood and the lives of real life novelists are vastly different. Still, I had hopes of procuring an agent and making my mark. This year I changed that goal slightly. What is wrong with being published by a small house? Nothing. Nothing at all. At least then maybe someone outside of my circle of friends would read my work. Or a handful of someones.
So why can't I get it together? Why do I still lack the drive to sit down and get my WIP done. Or at least get to chapter 6!
I may try to get back to some basic storytelling. I've read many an interview where writers (established ones) say to the novice, "Write something every day. Even if it's shitty, just write." I abandoned Prompting365 some time ago. I guess I got discouraged. Always playing for an empty room. Maybe that's what writing is about for the most part, performing for no one but yourself. I could consider picking it back up again. One writer, one prompt, 365 days. But even that seems daunting.
So if I am awake, does that mean I can no longer dream? Will the characters in my head eventually desert me for someone with more talent? More drive.
Am I the only writer incapable of actually writing? When do we become people who talk about writing as opposed to just being writers?
Is it possible to be a writer and be wide awake? I don't know the answer. But I'll let you know if I figure it out.
**REPRINTED FROM PROMPTING365.COM**
