#0036 🎶We Are Family🎶
Gather together in creative community
Grocery list. Doctor prescription. Crossword puzzle. Rejection letter. Just as there are many forms of hermit crab essay, so, too, communities to share and support creative self-expression come in a variety of shapes and sizes.
It’s easier to embrace rejection together.
Consider the trope of a struggling writer in the garret of a dusty Victorian, working alone into the night by candlelight on a poem. Oh, the heart-wrenching loneliness of the creative… (What a drama mama, anybody with me?!)
Sure, writing, drawing, composing, choreographing, etc., can be lonely. But the process from idea or prompt through publication/performance needn’t be a solo endeavor. Unless that’s your (bread and) jam. In which case, this post isn’t for you.
For everyone else, let’s talk about online and in-person meetups, workshops, gatherings, and groups. Not in that order.
Back in the 2010s, I sought out local writers and wandered into a critique group at a used bookstore. Janet, the leader, explained the dozen or so members swapped about 10 manuscript pages weekly with each other to read, mark up, and discuss the following week. Some people brought in materials all the time; others, occasionally. Almost everyone wrote fiction, and a couple had published books. Though my blood-cancer memoir didn’t fit with the fiction vibe, the group embraced me. I scrambled to keep up with the jargon, the group etiquette, and the ways to give and react to constructive criticism. I learned so much from that first critique group. The biggest takeaway? This critique group gave me the confidence to call myself a writer.
Two writers from that first critique group — a retiree with southern flair and a reformed academic — and I started a poetry gathering. I extended an invitation to a friend from my parenting circle who’d been an award-winning journalist and wanted to dip her toes into creative writing. Other people came and went, but we were the four mainstays. We met at our dear retiree’s house (with his ever-patient wife chilling in the background), sipping home-brewed coffee and noshing bakery treats while catching up on our lives. Oh, and reading our poetry aloud to each other, which we praised. At the poetry gatherings, we connected deeply and supported each other’s creativity.
At some point pre-Covid, I was invited to join an 8- or 12-week (don’t remember) workshop at City of Hope for patients to learn about creating comics for self-healing. I inquired if I needed to be able to draw a straight line. Nope. Once I cleared that low bar, I dove into the new skills workshop. Team-taught by an arts-college professor/professional illustrator (Mark Todd) and his wife, also a professional illustrator (Esther Pearl Watson), we nonartists were gently led to open our eyes and hearts. The mind/heart > hand > paper through line continues to amaze me. I learned so much about comics composition and narrative. So much about letting go of perfectionism.
After Covid lockdown turned into zoom school year for the kids, two of the people from the poetry group asked me to join them online weekly for an hour. We became a three-person online writing group. Usually one (award-winning journalist) comes up with two or three words for the prompt, and the other (reformed academic) sets the 15- or 20-minute timer. Then we write the start of (or sometimes a whole) story. When time’s up, someone usually grovels for another 5 minutes. Then we read our writing aloud. We still zoom on a mostly weekly basis. Because fiction isn’t my main focus, these quick made-up tales let me experiment. This writing group is a fun, low-stress way we flex our creative muscles.
Since joining Inlandia Institute as managing editor of the online journal, I’ve participated in several online multiweek workshops. (Note: Inlandia had workshops before then, I was just oblivious.) Inlandia Institute workshop offerings, mostly online, are a cost-effective way to begin or continue a writing adventure with others. Regardless of genre, I discover amazing new-to-me teachers and writers as well as refine my storytelling skills at these online multiweek workshops.
Inlandia’s 100 Rejections Club includes an online writing meetup. Every Thursday morning from 9:00am to 10:00am, we zoom. Some call it Writing in Solidarity; others say Writing Alone Together. We (virtually) gather to continue on our projects. Other than a quick hello at the start and a gentle time’s up announcement at the end of the group zoom, we are muted and turn off our cameras. Starting this week with June 6th, we’re adding a second meetup Thursday evenings from 6:30pm to 7:30pm. (We’ll email details to members Wednesday.) These online writing meetups keep us accountable with our creative endeavors.
I’ve skimmed through some of my experiences here. Maybe another time I’ll write about the all-guy in-person critique group with (then) MFA students and a college professor, or the online writing partner pair up organized by a meditation collective, or some of the one-time online workshops I’ve attended. And I’ve not touched on writing retreats, residences, or conferences. So many places to not be alone.
Just as family can be born or built — looky here, it’s Pride Month — a helpful meetup, workshop, gathering, or group can be the found community that lets you sing out with Sister Sledge, “We Are Family.”
Next time: Still hoping for no more gunk.
Yay for your determination to create a writing community! I want to hear about the retreats too.
Love the idea of that City of Hope workshop.