Writers Groups Matter

Writing is often said to be a lonely business, and the writing part surely is. You can’t have a group of people hanging around while you’re hunting and pecking your way to brilliance. What I do know, though, is that my writing has vastly improved since I got out of my cave once in a while.

Just this week, I attended two different writers groups, and for very different reasons. On Saturday, I was asked to read my short story, On the Rail, at the launch of Rivulets 27. That’s the 2015 version of the anthology put out by the Naperville Writers Group each year.

Reading On the Rail at the 2015 Rivulets launch.
Reading On the Rail at the 2015 Rivulets launch. That face is dramatizing a scene, not realizing what I actually wrote.

 

Then on Wednesday night I attended a new group–Author, Author, at the Wheaton library. I was invited by my friend and colleague Jerilyn Willin. It was focused on how to actually sell more books.

 

What do writers groups do for me?

 

  • They get me out of the house. I run my company from home, and cabin fever is a very real and dangerous thing. In order to prevent turning into Jack Nicholson from the Shining, I need to get out among human beings.
  • I get to read other people’s work, including things I would never voluntarily read. I’ve probably read more poetry in the last year than in the previous 30. Romance novels? Superhero fan fiction? Really awful drivel that should never be inflicted on innocent human beings? Really good work from people who are hiding their lights under giant bushels? Yup, yup, yup and yup.
  • I’m learning how to proof and edit, and see my own mistakes reflected in glorious, painful technicolor in my critiques of others.
  • I get feedback from people who aren’t related to me or have a vested interest in soothing my ego. The Count of the Sahara benefited greatly from the feedback of strangers or at least people who don’t live with me. Next week they’ll get the first peek at my new novel, The Horns of Hattin.
  • This is not a charitable thought, but here it is: I am pretty good. I know this because I see what else is out there. My work is better than a lot of people’s (which is good to know) and not nearly as good as some (which is humbling, but also really good to know.)
  • I learn I am not alone in trying to sell my work…. making money from a book is WAY harder than actually writing it,and takes more work. I need to learn all I can. Yes, Erik and the BookFolks do a nice job, but ultimately authors sell their work.
  • There are other people out there (some crazier, some saner) who understand what it is to be a writer.

    NWG member and darned fine writer won a copy of The Count of the Sahara. Can't wait for his feedback.
    NWG member and darned fine writer won a copy of The Count of the Sahara. Can’t wait for his feedback.

Even if you don’t go often, meeting other writers, getting feedback and lending an empathetic ear are important to the author’s journey.

Besides, when you drink in a group, you’re social. When you drink alone it’s just kinda sad.

Published by

Wayne Turmel

Wayne Turmel is a writer, speaker and co-founder of The Remote Leadership Institute. Originally from Canada, he now lives and writes in Chicago. He lives with The Duchess, Her Serene Highness, and Byron, the world's crankiest cockatiel.