Writing Groups, revisited

http://nataliegoldberg.com/My post yesterday sounded a little…judgmental. I love our small group at Writing Lab, and though I can imagine a few people more in it, for the most part, I like that we’ve stayed small. There’s time to write, and to share work at the end, because of our size.

I love groups that write from prompts, and I’ve done this in the past. Prompts can get you out of your linear, logical brain and into your creative, wild mind (Wild Mind is another Goldberg title).

Critique groups are great and I belong to one that meets sporadically. When I’m procrastinating on finishing a story or an essay, the critique group date gives me a deadline.

For the record: I think ALL writing groups are fabulous. You get to decide what works for you.

Writing Is Like Going On A Very Long Walk

Posted: 03 Aug 2015 09:04 PM PDT [on ADVICE TO WRITERS]

“When you’re writing, it’s rather like going on a very long walk, across valleys and mountains and things, and you get the first view of what you see and you write it down. Then you walk a bit further, maybe you up onto the top of a hill, and you see something else. Then you write that and you go on like that, day after day, getting different views of the same landscape really. The highest mountain on the walk is obviously the end of the book, because it’s got to be the best view of all, when everything comes together and you can look back and see that everything you’ve done all ties up. But it’s a very, very long, slow process.” -ROALD DAHL

Plays Well with Others

I promised a blogpost about writing in community, and even though I’ve now been thinking about this post for a few days, I’m still not quite sure how to shape it.

So I’ll just tell you what I’ve been thinking.

Because I facilitate a writing group (The Writing Lab), which used to be closely associated with my college, and is still loosely associated with it, I frequently talk to people who are curious about our group, but don’t “get it.” I don’t write in groups, one faculty member told me (with a sort of sneer).

I’ve also met people who would like to join us, but “can’t” write in a group. It’s a solitary process for them, I guess. Someone said to me that there’s a reason knitting isn’t a team sport (except people do get together in knitting circles, right?). They would be willing to show up at the end and share their work, I’ve been told. One of these people added, “I think you would enjoy it.” I wasn’t sure how to take that.

The group, as it’s evolved, isn’t about entertaining one another. It’s more like holding our feet to the fire. We are writers, not having-writ-eners (?). (There are critique groups, to which one brings work in draft, of course, and they can be very useful.) Nothing new about this, as there are Natalie Goldberg Writing Down the Bones type groups all over the place.

We don’t write from prompts (we used to, and then we kind of went off in our own direction.) Our group is maybe a little like AA or Weight Watchers. Except instead of quitting alcohol or losing weight, we’ve made a commitment to get together and write. Some of us have made a specific commitment to write on a certain project (I now work only on poetry when I’m at Lab and this is slowly helping me to find my way toward a new manuscript). And even though the other members are receptive and never-critical and pleased in fact with almost everything, having made a commitment to them makes it easier to follow through on that commitment.

You don’t have to travel to belong to a group. Julia Cameron suggests contacting a friend (by email or text, or a quick phone message) to say “I’m going to write now,” and, later, to say “I wrote ____ words” or “____pages.” And there are lots of internet groups for people more technologically savvy than I am. But I like having actual people physically sitting at a table with me.

More than anything else, though, more than sitting at the table even, is the belief that we share: the belief that writing is valuable, that it is worth doing.

“If you believe you can change — if you make it a habit — the change becomes real. This is the real power of habit: the insight that your habits are what you choose them to be. Once that choice occurs — and becomes automatic — it’s not only real, it starts to seem inevitable, the thing, as [William] James wrote, that bears ‘us irresistibly toward our destiny, whatever the latter may be.’

“The way we habitually think of our surroundings and ourselves create the world that each of us inhabit.”
–Charles Duhigg, 
The Power of Habit (273)

By the way, once Duhigg got to William James, he had completely won me over. You could read just the Afterward and Appendix and be inspired (though I think you would then be inspired to read the whole book).

And, please notice, I wouldn’t have written this post at all, had I not promised it to you, dear community of blog-readers. Having a community supporting any goal is a gift.

What do you hope to change?

color outside the lines“This is the real power of habit: the insight that your habits are what you choose them to be.” Charles Duhigg, The Power of Habit (273)

Before you change your life, it helps to know what exactly it is that you want to change.

So, Bethany, what would you like to see more of in your writing life?

  • If I had a more organized send-out habit, that would be wonderful.
  • If I could be more organized, I think that would help me to finish more work, and so have it available to be sent out.
  • On those days when I’m not driving to see my mom or on some other errand, I’d like to actually write for several hours. Several? 3 or 4? 6?
  • If I could go to bed earlier, and fall sleep earlier, I could get up earlier in the morning, and write, even on days when I’m traveling. As mornings are my absolute, best time of day to do creative work, this would be ideal.

The other day, I suggested that you jot down what you want to accomplish. But now, what does one DO with that list? The key, I’m convinced, is to focus on one item, and break it into parts. Into the smallest parts possible. Or as some writers would emphasize that phrase: The. Smallest. Parts. Possible.

In order to send out my current mss., what small actions can I take?

Find the emails about PEARL’S ALCHEMY that I’ve sent most recently. Draft a new email. Find addresses for all the agents and editors I met with last summer. Get a copy of the PNWA 2014 program?

Decide what exactly I need to fix in the closing section of the book, in order to follow up an initial request, or a 50 page excerpt, with the whole book.

When I look at the small parts, just one each morning, it doesn’t sound that difficult.

In her book, Juicy Pens, Thirsty Paper SARK includes a wheel of small, intentional actions. If I still had the book, I’d take a picture of her version — but here’s mine (messier, less colorful) for this project of 1) making a list; 2) choosing one item; 3) breaking it into small parts; 4) figuring out what small, action I can take next.

sark2If I’m remembering it right, SARK’s wheel says “5 seconds or 5 minutes.” When you’re trying to create a new habit, the smallest action can help. Alongside other small actions, repeated over time, it can start everything sliding downhill.

One action, I find, encourages another.

In my next blogpost, I want to add 2 cents more to this thread on habits — this time about finding or creating a supportive community.

My Bad Habits

CAM00098Okay, so another blogpost about habits.

It’s easy to get all self-righteous when talking about habits, to list all the great habits one has — implying that YOU would do well to take a page out of MY book.

Let me admit, right up front, that I have many many bad habits. When I’m stressed I drink wine, or shop, or drink wine and shop. I don’t write nearly as much as I should. I watch way too much television. I have a very bad habit of saying the worst thing, the most fearful, anxious thing possible, and always the first thing that comes to my mind — a habit that has been so hurtful to my daughters over the years. (I’m working on this! I’m STILL working on it!)

I DO exercise, but in a most dilettantish way. I walk on a treadmill and read my Nook. When I slip out of the house in the evening to walk the dog, it’s never a very long walk. And it usually includes parking at the beach and reading for about 15 minutes, before we get to the walk. The dog thinks I’m nuts.

Oh, and I am addicted to Spider Solitaire.

The worst habit? I am still tinkering with my novel — my absolute worst work habit, and the most unproductive one. (One I am determined to break.)

Confession, it’s said, is good for the soul. It’s also good for making a change. And I think that’s because saying it out loud, to a journal (or a blog) or to a good friend can be a way of making it visible. If you want to address anything in your life, you first have to see it.

You need, in fact, a system for making it uber visible. A friend pointed out recently that complaining to my journal is not working for me. She suggested that I have a special notebook for those things I want to change. So I went home, immediately, and pulled out a notebook. And, guess what? It works! Well, it’s starting to work.

It can also work to designate a first page in your journal for such a list — and then to reread that page every morning. If you don’t journal, taping notes up around your bathroom mirror may be effective for you. Working with a partner will work, if you have regular, focused meetings (Charles Duhigg says you need “a community of belief”).

Since this is a writing blog — that’s where I want to go next. So answer me this: 1) What do you want to write? Could you take 10 minutes and write down a long list of what you want to write?

Then: 2) Where can you put this list so you can find it again tomorrow?

My next blogpost will be about what to do with your list.