Commenting is VITAL to a writing group.

It seems stupid to say, but anyone who's been in one knows this. There has to be a give and take, and you have to give if you expect to get. It's also one of the reasons people seem to loath writing groups: the feeling of always needing to comment, and never having your work commented on.

When I started the DWG, I wrote up some rules, invited in a few friends, and just assumed that everyone understood that if there was work up, you'd comment on it. Oh, yeah, there was also the fact that I'd been the only one to have been in a writing group at that point, so I was the only one who had an idea what the give and take should look like. 

The result went about how you would expect: not well. 

There were only four of us around that time, and three of us were getting our stuff read somewhat regularly, and one was getting left out by almost everyone, and at that point I realized I needed to create a more substantial structure. My solution was perhaps a bit overboard...

I tried to address this by coming up with a highly convoluted system where we were to all have a status of being Active or Inactive, and then there was a spreadsheet that we all had to reference, and we had to log in all of our commented stuff on a second document and note each work we'd commented on, and in turn I'd take all of this information and fill in the spread sheet so that everyone knew what works had been posted and who'd commented on each, and if they'd all done the appropriate commenting (having read and commented on a small portion of every author's work), they would then be considered Active, and only then would other people be required to comment on your work. Oh, and there was this thing that if there were authors that hadn't been Active since the last time you were Active, they wouldn't be required reading, but if they were at any time since you were last Active, they would be. And a few other complexities thrown in to try to make everything fair.

Simple, right? 

Surprisingly enough, I managed to keep up this level of detail for about six months. That was when I realized that, although it was eminently fair and balanced, it was also a lot of work, and pretty overkill. See, the intent of my group was to be super low stakes (like write half a page, and read and comment on half a page of everyone's work kind of low stakes), and as such, you're not required to be active every week, or even every month. In fact, for a while, I was the only one Active for a good two month stretch. That made all that chart keeping a little silly.

After a bit of deliberating with myself, and others in the group, my final approach streamlined everything. It still revolved around the Active or Inactive system, but vastly simplified. Did you comment on all the Active Authors the previous week? Yes? Great, this week you're Active. No? Cool, then you're Inactive this week and you're work isn't required for others to read. Let everyone know on the Bulletin Board if you've done your commenting. At the end of the week, I check who did, and put them on the Active list. That's it.

I'm actually kinda proud of this system, because I don't really have to do much work to keep it going, and everyone understands where they stand and why.

And now my group has been chugging along for over a year and a half, and we technically have nine who are involved. One is basically a no-show (one of my rules is I don't kick people out, I just occasionally ask if they're still interested in being a part of the group, and inevitably, they say, "Yeah, I'll get back to it soon."), one is kind of a no-show, the majority are in and out every few weeks, and three of us are in damned near every week. I also send out Friday memes as a friendly reminder to everyone that they still belong to a group.

But this is kind of what I wanted: a sense of community, yet still a lot of flexibility, because life is hectic, and writing is hard. I wanted to create a group that would be a gentle reminder that there was a project that each of us wanted to complete, and to just keep plugging along. Because that's how writing gets done: one letter, one word, one sentence at a time. 

Next time: Growing Pains

There's this myth out there of the lonely, solitary writer, sitting in a dark dank hole of a room surrounded by cigarette​ butts and empty bottles of booze, never to see the light of day until they emerge with a honed, polished and genius manuscript. I'm sure it's not wholly a myth. I'm sure there are people who can do that (and I have been known to have an empty bottle sitting next to me once in a while), but I am certainly NOT one of those writers. I don't know about you, but I write stuff so other people can read it, and very seldom does prose pour from my fingertips without either some serious forethought or some painful revision. I recently heard the term "pantser or plotter," meaning do you write by the seat of your pants or do you plot everything out. I'm not going to get into that right now, but either way, a Writing Community can help.

As I'd said before, I've been very lucky with writing groups, and I learned a great appreciation for them over the years which is what I wanted to talk about this week. (I already gave all the ground-work stuff for my Digital Writing Group in part one, so we'll get back to the nitty-gritty of it in a later post.)

My first writing group was a summer project my wife threw together around the time I'd decided I would start on my second novel. As she is an academic, she and her colleagues are expected to write, and, if you see where this is going, the group wound up consisting of me with my fanciful sci-fi piece, a handful of seasoned scholars with immaculate research articles, and one other author who'd been writing for decades. I'd never learned about commenting, or accepting and using criticism in high school, and since I never went to college, I didn't get a chance to learn it there either. This whole thing was exceptionally intimidating. My only saving grace was that my wife had gently coached me on my first novel, and so I'd already begun to understand how not to be defensive about constructive feedback, and an inkling of how to critically read other's work.

The experience was, as you would expect, educational, and it gave me my first insight into what a writing community can do for you. What I didn't really embrace then, that I spout whenever I can now, is that writing is a skill. So is reading, and so is giving feedback. Better yet, learning how to read critically helps make your own writing better, though, of course, the most important part about making your writing better is to keep writing.

My second writing group was a more formal affair. The rather successful author Richard Bausch hosts a yearly by-invitation-only writing group at Chapman University. You have to apply, and he only accepts a handful of authors each spring. I was honored by being accepted, along with eleven others. The format was, what I could only assume, a more standard model than the first group which had wrapped up with only five of us at the end. Richard's group had... well, Richard. He was a moderator that set the rules, guided the sessions, and interjected when he felt like (and boy did he. He liked to talk and tell stories, and really, who were we to say no? My favorite story of his was about revision, or the lack thereof. One of his manuscripts--he didn't specify which--wasn't sitting right with him, but writing it had taught him what he wanted to know about his characters. So, the moment he finished his first draft, he set it aside, and wrote the whole damned thing again from scratch. Which only emphasizes another point I often hear from my wife: writing is thinking.)

My third writing community wasn't really a group. It was a website full of authors called Jukepop, and doesn't exist anymore. Once the powers-that-be deemed you knew how to put a sentence together, they let you provide as much content to their site that you wanted for all the world to see. Anyone with a browser could read your work, and there wasn't really any monetary compensation, though anyone who belonged to the site could comment on your work. In that regard, it was a massive writing group. (It was also considered highly unprofessional by a professional writer I know. "You don't let the public see your work until it's ready for the public to see your work. First impressions are important." After consideration, I agreed and left.) That foray did help me sharpen my commenting skills, but mostly taught me the importance of every member having complete control over their own work. See, when I tried to leave, the staff of Jukepop wouldn't answer my emails. They were happy to have my content, but decided the best way not to lose authors was to ignore an author's request to close their account. I eventually had to go in and delete every chapter individually, and re-title everything "Null." Which, now that I think about would be a cool title for a sci-fi story. (I'm sure it already is.)

The most positive part of that experience was that there WAS a sense of community. There were people who supported what you were doing, and encouraged you to keep going, and, best of all, there were people who read what you were writing. Artists create art for the sake of art. Writers write, dancers dance, painters paint, and one of the greatest satisfactions is when you get to share that with others and it's appreciated. It sure would be nice to get paid for it though. 

That was pretty much my foundation for creating my own writing group. Well, and having a kickass wife who drills praxis, pedagogy, and theory into my head. That helps too.

Next time: Evolution of Commenting

If you're reading this, there's a chance you're looking for a writing group. That's great! Being a part of a writing community is a fantastic way to hone your skills as a writer. It can also cause all kinds of frustrations. I've been lucky, and I mean really lucky, to have been in a handful of really great writing groups. From what I've read online, and of the anecdotal horror stories of other writers, I know this isn't the rule. In fact, the rule seems to be: find a local writing group, meet odd people with poor social skills, seldom get your stuff read, and navigate a handful of bossy people who think they know everything. 

Well, after my good experiences and over the last few years, I've created and been a part of an alternative that doesn't completely negate those negatives, but lessens the impact of them, and still gets your stuff in front of eyes: the Digital Writing Group (or as I like to put it, the DWG (pronounced, of course, "dog")). The down side (if that's how you want to think of it): you create this group on your own, and this blog series is intended to be a kind of "How To."

Now, before you roll your eyes (at the idea of a digital writing group and/or creating it on your own and/or my punny title) let me give you the basics. The premise is: I personally know people who have always wanted to write a book, and they in turn know people I don't that also have always wanted to write a book. Through the use of Google Drive and email, I set up a small network of writers across three states consisting of friends, and friends of friends, to post work, comment on work, and get their work commented on in return. We are now nine, and nearing the limit of the functional size for a group like this.

I know, there are online writing groups out there, and I'm sure they're a good fit for some, but for me, I didn't feel comfortable with the anonymity of them. And really, it's scary putting your work out in public for all kinds of reasons. If that kind of community does sound like something you're interested in, cool. Here's a link to get you STARTED, or just search for "online writers groups" and jump to it. If you're like me, and want to be a little more "personal" in your approach to sharing, know that, like writing itself, my version of the DWG doesn't come easy, takes patience, and takes a bit of legwork. Though now that it's founded, it is pretty rewarding.

If you've heard enough, and are all like, "Damn, I wanna get me some of that sweet, sweet small-community-sharing goodness." I won't make you wait for the opportunity to create your own. I wrote a constitution of sorts containing the goals, rules, and guidelines the group is based on called, appropriately enough, DWG: GOALS, RULES, & GUIDELINES. At the end of that page, I've also posted a sample DWG: Bulletin Board (a group document needed to keep track of things) to illustrate what that looks like.

For those of you who are wondering, "What the hell does this guy know?" I'll give you a little rundown of my own limited experience.

I've been writing with the intent to get novels published off and on for about 15 years now. During that time, I've completed three novels, a novella, numerous short stories, and have collected a solid stack of rejection letters. Also during that time, I have been a part of two wonderful writing groups (not including the DWG), and an online writing community that no longer exists (and was also told some time ago by a professional writer that it had been very unprofessional to be a part of). My wife is a professor of composition and rhetoric, and also the director of a college writing center. Like any good husband, I listen to my wife, and because of that (and from the groups I've been in) I've picked up a whole lot about what it means to give constructive feedback. And through the moderating and creation of my own writing group, I've figured out a good amount of what does and doesn't work in the writing group format I've chosen.

Over the next few weeks, (hopefully a new post every Thursday or Friday) I'm going to share what I've learned.