Writing groups. In my
opinion, are a collection of people who want to get better at their craft
through critique. You are the teacher, student, and the writer. There is always
someone there who runs the writing group, a moderator. My first ever writing
group was located on the north side, I will never forget that night. I had been
writing for several years and wanted to go to the next phase. I needed
feedback, which is a function of a writing group, also support and constructive
criticism was something I was seeking. Most people I know are writers but they
would only tell me what they knew I wanted to hear. I was looking for more objectivity.
A real good friend of mine had hooked me up with this writing group, she felt
that there was something we could have in common when it came to creative
writing. On the first night, I walked into the moderate sized white room on the
second floor of the building, and there was at least six to seven people sitting
around a brown oblong oak table chatting with one another. They all looked over
100. They welcomed me. I was told to take a seat. The moderator smiled and
welcomed me once more. Suddenly every of one of them appeared totally
unprepared, and I felt weird because I was prepared. One guy was passing around
writings that he had plagiarized, another guy brought in a piece he claimed
that he had written 20 years ago. A woman copied something out of a book and
read it aloud. One guy did not have anything at all. Hence, I had written a
short piece, made some copies passed it around, a bit later. I was asked to
read my story. However, my story once in their hands, some started marking all
over it with red ink. The moderator looked like she was homeless. But by the
look on the moderator’s face, as she read my story silently to herself, it
could have been the best writing she had seen in years. Not that my story was
any good, it was just everyone else's work in this writing group, in my opinion,
was just that bad. They appeared not to be serious writers and it felt to me,
they were just there to waste time and to be anywhere but at home. Some were
mean and appeared to be combative. At the end of the group meeting, I was told
for the following week to bring food for everybody. They were serious. I left
there and never went back again. This one group does not reflect all writer’s
groups, because I have been part of some great ones. Just thought I’d share.
Author George Wilder Jr.
