The other night, with my in-progress draft safely saved on my computer and my brain filled with the prospect of meeting other like minds, a friend and I tried out a new group. We decided to join in with a group of writers neither one of us had ever met before, and hope that creative inspiration or, at the very least, camaraderie, hit.
I”m sad to say we found neither. I’m even sadder to say that I wasn’t really surprised.
Over the years I’ve tried again and again to hook up with a writers’ critique group. Writing is a solitary profession, and there’s sometimes nothing nicer than connecting with someone else over a difficult creative problem or professional issue. It’s a nice break from being inside your own head all day, and it often means getting out of the house for a while (and hey, that’s never a bad thing).
Most of the time, I find the formal group setting a failure. I can’t put my finger on why – perhaps it’s the hobbyist-t0-pro ratio, or varying levels of ability, or just a clash of personalities. I have very rarely found a group that clicks. (and by group, I’m talking about a formal, fully instituted group of people all committed to meeting the first Tuesday of every month having contributed their own work or critiqued someone else’s). There’s so often something…off.
Maybe it’s because, so often, everyone has vastly different reasons for being there. I think for some, it’s a social outlet. For some, it’s a hobby. For others, it’s actual work. (I don’t mean to sound like a snob when I say that it’s a hobby for some, but let’s face it, some people earn cold hard cash from their words, and others scribble away in their bedrooms, dreaming of the day when their stuff will show up in print. There’s a vast difference. Oh. Hell. I’m probably a snob.)
Whatever the reason, I still keep hoping that a magical group will somehow form, and I’ll be a part of it. And I am invariably disappointed. It’s a lot like dating, I think. You probably have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find a real winner. The other night was a great example of the Awkward Blind Date, when you know it’s not working from about two minutes in, but it’s almost impossible to exit gracefully. They all seemed like very nice people, but I quickly got the impression we weren’t there for the same reasons. And that’s fine.
So I’m be content instead with smaller meeting of like minds. It’s far more pleasant – and productive – than all that puckering.