A few nights ago, I visited another writing group - The Washington Creative Writers Club. I found them through Meetup.com. About 25 members attend on a weekly basis and almost everyone is working on fiction. They break into smaller groups where individuals read their writing and then receive critique.
Not knowing anyone in the group and this being my first visit, I had not intended on sharing my work. I thought I would sit back and observe. However, I still brought copies of my blog post A Moment of Melancholy. I know enough about Karen to realize that Karen just might change her mind. I wasn’t interested in reading my work out loud as I had not rehearsed my reading voice. Ok, I was scared. I even inquired about letting others just read it and provide critique. Joe, leading our group, said he would explain that later at the end of the meeting and that he would put me down to read second. Joe is a force so I complied.
I read my work and felt like I was sitting naked on a stage somewhere in Times Square. I did not die. In fact, I received very constructive and thoughtful feedback. One suggestion was to be more economical with my words if I am going to do short essays (500 words or less). Here's an example from my melancholy post: I said, I looked up and realized that a little girl was coming my way. I could say, A little girl was coming my way. Another thought was to add a final paragraph to tie everything together. I questioned whether or not I should tell the reader exactly what they should take away from my work. They didn't see it that way. There was a comment about the piece not really being about melancholy although it’s in the title and mentioned a few times. In fact, Joe the force, briefly and eloquently expressed what the piece was really about and I was impressed. All I could do was nod as I realized that these might be my people.
The Washington Creative Writers Club is not for everybody. I was told that they have a lot of one-timers. The individuals that I encountered were pretty intellectual and about business. It’s about the work and not your feelings, who you think you are or who you want to be. In my group, I was surrounded by solid writers. I’ve been to other writing groups where people do not have basic writing skills. I see this everywhere including professional settings. This may be more of a reflection of our educational system than anything else.
After the meeting, a number of people came up to me and encouraged me to come back. They hoped I wasn’t scared away. Several members went over to the Cheesecake Factory afterwards. I went along. I didn’t come to DC to become a hermit. In fact, this is exactly why I moved to DC – to have new experiences and meet new people. This may require that I leave my apartment. I got home sometime after 11 pm. The next day I went to work to earn my daily bread, tired but happy.
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