I
am involved in a great writer’s group. But, why is it so great? Is there some
magic formula? Can it be duplicated? Before we answer those questions, let’s join
my dad in his garden.
As
a kid, I remember dad in his garden behind our house. He began the garden by
tilling the soil with a John Deere rototiller. Yes, it was green and yellow.
After preparing the soil, dad planted the seeds; or, in some cases seedlings,
and the garden began to grow.
The
garden was in a nice, sunny spot in our backyard. At times, dad watered the
garden. Dad’s favorite veggie was the tomato—red and ripe, picked straight from
the vine. As a kid, my brother and I were enlisted to help rid the garden of
tomato worms—fat, green caterpillars that gnawed the growing plants. We were
given a nickel a worm, so it was a big deal!
Dad
never built a tomato plant. We never heard him in the garage sawing away,
carefully crafting the stalk. We never saw him drilling holes in the side to
install the branches. He never spun a mater on a lathe. Growing tomatoes doesn’t
involve building. It involves tending—creating conditions conducive to growth.
When the conditions are right, the tomatoes grow—each in their own unique,
organic way.
The
same is true of a writer’s group. It can’t be built. It has to be tended. It’s
more gardening than carpentry, because a great writer’s group is organic. It’s
more of an organism than it is an organization. Let’s look at some of the conditions
that help a writer’s group to grow.
Leadership from among rather than above. For
a group to be successful, there has to be leaders. Someone needs to schedule
meetings and provide some organizational structure.
My group recently
put together an anthology. We needed editors, and I was one of those.
We’ve had some
training seminars. I’ve conducted one, but other members have also gotten
involved.
The group
definitely has leaders, but no one is preeminent. There isn’t a hierarchy. We’re
all equals, and at times different members lead. When people lead, they provide
just enough direction to keep things on track, but the ego doesn’t get in the
way. A great deal of the success for the group comes from the fact that early
on a core of people came together who all had the ability to lead without
dominating—to lead from among as opposed to leading from above.
Genuine love rather
than critical spirits. This is another component that can’t be built. You
can’t plan it, saw it, nail it, or blueprint for it. The only thing you can do
is love others and hope the spirit catches. The people in my group genuinely
want to help each other and see each other achieve their best.
The
opposite of love would be a critical spirit. From the get-go, our founder decided
we were going to focus on the positives. I’m not saying there isn’t a place for
looking at a piece of writing with a critical eye. We don’t do that, but I can
see how it would be helpful. What is never helpful is a critical spirit.
The
focus on the positives may seem counterintuitive. Don’t we learn from our
mistakes? If a teacher doesn’t put red marks on the page, how do we know what
to improve? But, even without the “red marks”, I see the writers in our group
improving. That happens, because everyone feels free to share. With that
freedom comes the opportunity of hearing golden words. We hear people’s best,
and those “golden words” often reside at the level of genius. The growth is
coming not from anyone trying to avoid the red marks, but because everyone is
being drawn towards the golden words of those around them.
Unique voices rather
than Xeroxed mindsets. We allow everyone in our group to be unique and we
embrace that uniqueness. Sure, we have people that admire certain authors.
Flannery O’Connor has received several nods from one member in our group, but I
won’t mention names. You know who you are! One of the members in our group has
a writing style that reminds me of Douglas Adams. However, as a group, we’re
not promoting someone trying to become a Steven King, or a John Grisham. I was
involved in a group that was a writer’s group, but the group was being diluted,
because they were also a pseudo-fan club for a given author. People were more
concerned with trying to emulate him than finding their own voices. Our group
seeks out each individual’s voice.
Faith rather than
fear. Every so often, we have a new person wander into our group. After
they hear a few people read, they’re sometimes intimidated to share. We don’t
make people share, but we’re receptive to everyone being involved. On several
occasions, a new person has said something to the effect, “I’m not sure I should
read something of mine. You guys are so good!”
As
a teacher, I know how damaging fear can be. Fear shuts down the creative process.
So, how do we overcome fear? Hopefully I won’t get too religious, but the Bible
says that perfect love casts out fear. Now, no one in our group is perfect, but
there is a genuine love. That love is palpable. People open up in that type of
atmosphere. Often, when that new person opens up, golden words roll off their
tongue.
I
think the opposite of fear is faith. My group has faith. We have faith that
each person in the group is special. We have faith that everyone has something
to say—and, their own unique way of saying it. We also have faith that the new
person coming in the door has something to share—something we need to hear. At
times what we experience is more uplifting than a church service. And, since we’re
open to everyone sharing whatever they want, there’s often a more colorful use
of language than you’d hear from the pulpit!
Open interaction
rather than closed mind. We’ve all met a closed-minded person—one who is
always right and sees the world in black and white. Such a person is social
cyanide—poisoning everything around them. We don’t have any person like that in
our group, which allows us to have completely open interactions. I’m not sure
what we’d do if someone like that became involved. I highly
suspect such a person wouldn’t stay long. They simply wouldn’t fit it.
Now,
let’s go back to the garden. Dad grew those tomatoes by picking a sunny spot,
tilling the soil, watering the plants, and picking off the tomato worms. He
tended his tomatoes and they were great. What we’ve done as a writer’s group is
to tend the group—by demonstrating leadership from among, by showing genuine
love, by looking for and cherishing each person’s unique voice, by having a
genuine faith that each person has something special to sharing, and by
allowing open interaction.
Just
as no two tomatoes are the same, no two writer’s group will be the same. But,
there are certain conditions conducive to growth. You can’t build a writer’s
group. You can only tend it and allow it to express itself—in its own unique,
organic way.
