Writer's Group Therapy

Hi. My name is Carrie, and I'm a writer.

I'm actually a great many things, but for the purpose of this post, I'm simply a writer. Then again, being a writer is never simple, is it? It's exhilarating, agonizing, energizing, and exhausting, plus so much more. Which is what brings me to today's topic, fellow readers and writers - the need for group therapy.

When I first started writing, I prided myself on my lone wolf tendencies. From what I've noticed of others around me, I wasn't the only one who attempted to be all secretive and solitary when slaving away on a new work. I thought that being a writer, and being a successful one at that, meant attempting to tap into your own creativity without the noise from others. I blame some of this on a creative writing class I had in college where the teacher was... well, some teachers are better than others. The rest of the blame, I know, goes to my late teens/early twenties pride and somewhat rebellious nature that sprouted a bit later than most. I didn't want anyone telling me what to do, how to write, or what was best for MY story. Then it didn't feel like mine, it felt like they were making it into something they would write instead of just a better version of its original self.

This is sometimes still a problem for me and, from what I've been told, a lot of writers. Having someone who doesn't know your characters or your plot half as well as you coming in and stomping around on your story is never fun. And that's how it feels at first - like a giant killjoy stomping on your poor fairyland forest of a story. It feels brutal, cruel, and unnecessary.

But then something happens that I came to realize perhaps far later than I should have. If the giant is trusted and good at what they do, and if the person doesn't want to just turn what you have into something they'd have written, the stomping feels less brutal. When the dust settles on your terrorized fairyland, you realize that they were only stepping on the dead weight and bugs of your plot. It's painful when you first start sending your work out to people and they have a desire to change this, that, or the other. Sometimes all three. Yet, after you try it a few times, it becomes less horrible. It no longer feels like some cruel monster upraising a perfectly perfect and beautiful thing that you created. It begins to feel natural. It's just a matter of getting to that point.

This is where having a small group of trusted fellow writers and friends comes very much in handy. I didn't start sharing my writing on a somewhat regular basis until I was 23 or 24, and by that point I had been writing short stories or unfinished novels for at least ten years. I formally joined two writing groups just within the past year, and have grown more fond of this not-so-lone-wolf way of doing things as each week passes. I've come to realize that these trusted friends aren't trying to turn my work into theirs. Not only do these writing groups encourage each individual to write what they want to write in their own voice, the discussions that sharing the work can lead to some necessary self-editing. It's not only useful in hearing what others have to say, but critiquing another story allows you to see what works and what doesn't and may force you to take a closer look at your own writing.

If writing groups are new, I say start small and start easy. One group I'm in (shout out Laura, Alana, and Brittney!) is more of an accountability group than a critique group. You can share if you want, but you don't have to. The purpose is simply to bounce ideas if necessary and to make sure everyone has time set aside to get from Point A to Point B in whatever they're working on. It's a great way to start testing the waters of sharing what you've written.

After becoming comfortable with sharing, then you can progress into more of a critique group (shout out to Josh, Raja, and Sabine!). It's in these groups that you'll not only be held accountable for writing, but you'll be held accountable for the quality of your writing. You'll also be exposed to other unedited works and you'll see what rules are good to follow in writing, what rules are okay to break, and what may work in one story but doesn't work in another. It takes some courage to join a group like this, but it will take a great deal more if you want to eventually have your story read by strangers. Start small and work your way up.

If anyone else has some writing group experience they'd like to share, good or bad, I'd love to hear it!

Head, Meet Desk

Still stuck.

On the plus side, I have had these moments many times before. I know where I need to go, I just need to figure out exactly how to get there. This is where my over analyzing everything comes into play. So, today's blog post is about perfectionism and the tireless, futile search for it.

I'm very sure that many, many writers, and just anyone in general, are overly critical of something (if not everything) they do. If it's something you want to devote your life to, then you become doubly so. Sure, there are outside pressures to be perfect and successful and all that, but most of it comes from some internal drive that tells you that you can't just be decent or good, you have to be great.

This is why I'm stuck.

It would be easy for me to just look at what I'm doing, shrug, write something inane down and continue to the next part that would come more freely. This is not an option. I'm going to use a terrible analogy here and say that writing something bad just to get to the easy part is like preparing for guests and cleaning your bathroom half-assed just so you can hurry up and prepare the wine and cake.

Now, I would LOVE to get to the wine and cake. I really would. But I would know that the bathroom of my story still looks like hell and people are going to see it. I can't let the bathroom of my story be seen by people, even if they aren't going to be staying in it very long and they surely know it can be cleaned eventually. That's not the point. That's the first impression they get of my story's bathroom.

So, instead, I'm the kind of person that will keep cleaning the bathroom, even once the guests have arrived and are wondering why we can't have fun yet. (I should mention that, in real life and not in a metaphorical way, this would never happen. Screw cleaning, I want wine and cake and general fun. This is still a metaphor. Just making sure we're still together.)

I'm now sounding mildly insane.

I know part of me should learn to let go. I know this is a valuable lesson in life for me, and for everyone with issues of perfection. The fact of the matter is, the bathroom of my story isn't going to be perfect unless professionals with professional tools get in there and help me do the job. So, obsessive bathroom cleaners, do you think it's time that we do what we can, acknowledge when it may be time to move on, and know that we can always go back to cleaning up the little mess we left behind once we've had the change to get some goodness in our systems and revisit it with a clear head?

So do I.

BTW - Snape.