Writing Group Dynamics

Five years ago I formed Morningside Writers Group, after an unsuccessful search for an existing writers group that worked. I didn't know at first what worked meant initially. I went on gut instinct.

What didn't work for me back then:

• traveling more than an hour from home or work to attend meetings.
• mixing writing genres in one group.
• combining inexperienced writers better suited for a beginning writer's class with seasoned and/or published writers.
• defending creative work. If it's not on the page, please don't expect me to read minds.
• habitual tardiness or absences.
• lack of commitment; not seeking publication, production, or sales.
• inability to see beyond the top of one's nose or fingertips.
  
• inability to play in the sandbox with others.
  

I can see now how and why the original MWG blueprint might have been flawed. I didn't have a measuring stick to gauge writing abilities versus writing potential. I didn't have a Clinical Psychology degree to navigate the different personality types.

One of the biggest mistakes was that I didn't screen and restrict the number of members. I tried to recreate a surrogate (artist) family in NYC that I had in Houston. These were strangers, no more likely to greet me on the street save for their interest in writing, and the new fangled thing I'd coined as Morningside Writers Group.

The process felt and can feel like Times Square during rush hour, sorting through writers and their application samples. Some people are just passing through, testing the waters, poking around, and perhaps spying. All aren't destined to join and maintain writing group memberships.

Building and maintaining a thriving writers group is hard work, and five years later, there are a few regrets. If I could offer advice to anyone wanting to start a writing group, I'd say proceed with caution, expect disappointment when some applicants don't meet membership criteria, and welcome surprises when eventual group members meet and surpass expectations.

An unfortunate aspect of all groups is a revolving door of personalities, face, and writing abilities.

Above all else, those foolish enough to organize and moderate a writing workshop or workshops, as I do, know that it will require business acumen, superb organizational skills, and the patience of Job. The inside joke is that I created an affordable one-year MFA program.

I'm often asked why I formed MWG. My background is in performance (acting, choir, and dancing). I moved to NYC to perform on Broadway, but I (a) lost interest, (b) was tired of unscrupulous and oversexed playwrights, directors, and producers, (c) was fed up playing children, teens, and or perpetual best friend.

I was inspired by other actors who took control of their personal lives and careers, and made the leap to writing. I read and give feedback as an actor/director would. I believe in staging fiction, and the actor as writer.

If the writing doesn't come alive on the stage in my mind, it needs work in my opinion. I appreciate and welcome opinions other than my own, and to that end, I created a twelve-item critique form that most complain about completing at first, but eventually come around. I know the critique templates have been floating in cyberspace for years, hopefully guiding writers to improve subsequent drafts.

I set out to create a writing community, and I've been successful more so than not, despite a myriad of setbacks, online attacks for people not granted interviews, or accepted into the workshops after an interview or audit session. There are good and great writers, just as there are good personalities. At the end of the day, chemistry is important when forming and sustaining creative or artistic groups.

I've built a solid foundation on which writers can produce quality work and receive detailed feedback before submitting to contests, editors, agents, and publishers. I have to remind myself regularly why I keep Morningside operational, rather than writing in a dimly lit corner in a local coffee shop or bar as some opt to do because they've been burned by other writing groups, or just don't play well with others.

Why do I do it? I'm a natural big brother and mentor, and I want to see others do their best, as they bring out the best in me. I'm hardwired for groups since my earliest beginnings.

When Writers Attack!

My job as a moderator for three of the four Morningside Writers Workshops can be fraught with anxiety and walking on eggshells. Recently an older writer who had been auditing the Memoir Workshop, and wanted to transfer into the Fiction Workshop because he felt he'd be better suited to make believe rather than pen truthful, realistic creative nonfiction lashed out via e-mail because I explained to him why our workshops have been successful.

I present this only to show the hazards in dealing with volatile people within an intimate workshop setting. His name and expletives will not be included -- it would serve no purpose.

The exchange began with my submitting an essay draft that I wanted feedback on, and he fired back that, "It is unprofessional to submit first or rough drafts."

It was obvious in reading this that he wanted to impose his countless years as a newspaper journeyman onto a workshop that encourages experimentation and nurturing over harsh criticism and magazine or newspaper editorial deadlines.

My reply: Each writer chooses what to submit and when, and it’s our job to meet the writer where they are on the page and offer our constructive feedback.

We are submitting work that we want to develop and eventually publish. Each writer sets a personal and professional standard, and one of the goals of the fellow workshop members is to hold the writer to that standard. No one knows how many drafts have gone into a piece before a writer has submitted.

My stating my previous submission is a first draft is that I feel it’s a culmination of all the thoughts and revisions to a point that I was ready to have it read and commented upon. No one likes to be constantly taken out the woodshed or feel they need to be perfect. Morningside is a workshop where writers gather to share, experiment, laugh, enjoy each other’s company, and above all else, improve their writing through successive drafts. Everyone in the various workshops seeks publication and representation.

If you feel the methods and practice in place are not to your liking, I accept that, and would wish you every success in finding others who share your beliefs.

He apparently didn't like my reply: "Christ, are you ever a pompous asshole! Hold on to your little realm of petty power for dear life, pal. **** you."

I opted not to be cheeky or outraged with a follow-up response telling him that he shouldn't take the Lord's name in vain, and that I appreciate his showing his true colors and removing the wooden stick that seem to cause him discomfort.

A moderator's job is to lead the workshop, maintain order, motivate workshop members, and carve out time to write and submit. I'm not power hungry, and I don't strive to sit on an ornately decorated dictatorial throne. Writing groups aren't for everyone, and Morningside, as it turns out, wasn't right for this guy. I wish him well in his continued journeys.

Why Do I Write?

I've sometimes wondered why I write when I could take the easy route and stifle my creativity as so many people do. Since the advent of blogging and online magazines, artists, political pundits, and those with an axe to grind connect and commiserate online. I had initial reservations about creating a blog, and didn't know if I'd be able or wanted to maintain a regular online presence. Who would want to read what I have to say about anything? Are there others out there who feel the same as I do?

I didn't dream of a writing career as a child as others do and have. I thought I'd be a (famous) actor on Broadway, film, and television. And then I met Dr. D. Joeris, my high school junior English teacher. She was a throwback to English teachers of yore, chignon bun, large eyeglasses, and snazzy matching business suit. Prior to her class, my attempt at keeping a journal was limited to a locked diary I hid in a dresser drawer.

In Dr. Joeris's magnet school English class in Houston's tony River Oaks neighborhood, I learned to trust myself on the page, traveling to distant lands, and commuting with things natural and otherwise. She'd post a journal prompt in her perfect teacher cursive on the board, and we'd have to write a few pages. One such entry posited: If you could travel with E.T. outer space, where would you go, and what would you do? I don't remember my response, but that was typical of her offbeat nature. It's years later that I realize she wanted us to be imaginative, and always treasure the child within us.

Looking back on her now, she made a lasting impression on me. I didn't know who Joyce Carol Oates was in high school, but in the time following, made the connection to the similarity in their appearance. Dr. Joeris used a microphone from her desk sometimes because of fragile voice, and referred to as little ones.

Dr. Joeris and I exchanged a few letters after I moved to New York, all of which I still have safe in a letter bound case. I know we had an affinity for each other, extending to her gifting me a subscription to Daily Word. Was she concerned for soul in New York, away from the bible belt of Texas?

I write to create, recreate, or redefine people, places, and experiences from my past and present. I write because Dr. Joeris gifted me a monogrammed silver Cross pen and pencil set (which I lost one of the two on a subway seat, and was agitated months later), and I love the feel of the pen when writing longhand.

I write to record my place in time on earth. I write to communicate with others who share and oppose my views. I write because it is as natural breathing or walking. I write because I can sometimes transport myself back in time to Dr. Joeris's class, as she walked about the room, shaping our sentences, and encouraging each successive paragraph. It's all about the sentences that become paragraphs, and the paragraphs then become pages.

Does The Devil Wear Prada?

I don't know if this is an apt title, but it feels appropriate with the last few days I've had dealing with writers in one of the groups I moderate.

In an ideal world, everything is free and money falls from heaven, but then we wake up and realize that books, magazine subscriptions, website hosting, and trips to Kinko's cost money.

Organizing and moderating a writer's group isn't for the faint of heart. There will always be someone who wants to disrupt a proven system that works. Along came a spider who spun her web and ensnared two otherwise good writers, all because she didn't want to pay the yearly membership dues that are a necessity to keep the group afloat.

I want to say more, but a close friend reminded me to let go and move on. To wish the people who caused the temporary grief the best for their future, and that the Memoir Group would be better without them.