Writing constellations

Thoughts about the importance of belonging to a writing group

I have a confession to make.

Deep breath.

I am a writing-group-aholic.

There. I said it.

At last count, I belong to at least a dozen, if you include online spaces. But the real magic happens i.r.l. I belong to six different organisations who meet regularly; two who meet in hired writing spaces, three who gather in the corners of coffee shops and one that takes place in a pub.

I joined my first writing group just over twenty years ago when I was living in Australia. We met monthly in each other’s houses. The host would offer a stimulus and prompt for writing as well as providing tea and cake – and they would also ‘set the homework.’ (Most of us in the group were teachers, so we needed this kind of language!)

Then, at the start of the next meeting, there’d be a chance to share whatever had been written for homework and get feedback. I didn’t always do the homework and I never shared what I had written, but I loved the prompts, and the cake, and the discussion about writing.

When I returned to the UK, I forgot about the group and didn’t look for another. It wouldn’t be possible, I reasoned, to replace or recreate that wonderful warm enclave of writers to which I had belonged. 

Then, in 2012, I attended an event at the British Library as a teacher. Along with the Writing Britain: Wastelands to Wonderlands exhibition, Simon Wrigley of the National Writing Project (UK) gave a keynote with writing exercises. Something extraordinary happened in that group. Crucially, the process involved sharing with a partner. By sharing and discussing with a stranger, a powerful sense of connection was ‘unlocked’ through the act of writing together.

I joined the NWP and began attending meetings intermittently. At the next one, I still wasn’t able to share anything I’d written. I didn’t feel that my writing was good enough to deserve an audience. And, crucially, there was never any pressure to share.

When I was finally brave enough to read out something I had written, it was another incredibly powerful moment. Ever since then, writing groups have been a kind of lifeline; the oxygen I need to survive the black hole of writing alone. (The Artemis II astronauts returned to Earth this morning after their historic 10-day mission, so I’ve got space-brain. That probably won’t be the last cosmic reference that makes its way in here.)

I started my own NWP writing group in 2015. Sometimes there would only be three or four of us, but that didn’t matter. We liked to write out and about in different locations: on the beach, in a park, at a museum, by a river. Once, in a lifeboat centre.

Tony Earnshaw at WSW

This week I attended West Sussex Writers, a group who meet regularly in Goring. The speaker this month was the poet, playwright and novelist Tony Earnshaw who began his excellent session by talking about the importance of belonging to a writing group – which is what has prompted this blogpost.

With Tony Earnshaw at WSW

It made me think about all the things I get from attending WSW, and Horsham Writers’ Circle and the others.

It’s a long list: access to experts, advice, book recommendations, competitions (low-stakes), drafting help, energy, friendship, feedback, gumption to share, hand-holding, inspiration…

I could probably go on through the whole alphabet.

Tony gave us plenty of poetry, provocative discussion — do poets have a moral obligation to write about global events? — and a quick cinquain prompt to exercise the writing muscles.

I’ll never fathom people manage to write so well in such short amounts of time!

But that reminds me of another thing that’s so important: you get to watch other people’s successes, and that’s a powerful motivator. You get an invitation to the launch-pad. (Yes, I know, I’m going to stop there…)

At HWC last month, I  was introduced to a whole new way of thinking about character development. Next month at WSW, we have an ‘open mic’ opportunity to share work in a safe space. At least two members are planning on sharing for the very first time. What a privilege it will be to hear their work – especially when I remember how nervous I was the first time.

Writers aren’t silos. The ivory tower has always been a myth. We don’t do this writing stuff alone. We are a constellation of creative stars (sorry, that one slipped in) who need each other. I really believe that you can’t just blast off into writing orbit without a Nasa-sized team behind you (that’s really the last one).

See you at a writing group soon.