Up-to-the-minute news on the group and our book!  Currently our book proposal is in the hands of a NY agent, and the manuscript is undergoing last minute revisions. 

Two of the members will be presenters at the Sanibel Island Writers Conference Nov 5-8 2009. http://www.fgcu.edu/siwc/

Nina Romano will be teaching a poetry workshop and Lauren Small will make a presentation on self-publishing.

Why We Write

What makes writing so powerful?  Maybe it's the nature of the medium itself.  We begin with an idea in our head a motif, an image, a bit of dialogue, a memory, a scent and transform it as best we can into words on the page.  When we're done, we hand the paper to someone else and wait with bated breath while he reads it. Will he understand what we are trying to  convey?  Will he see what we see?  Feel what we feel?  If he does, we feel as if we have accomplished an amazing feat: using nothing more than ink on the page, we have created an entire world.

            This effort of the imagination makes writing unique.  All the other arts give you something sensory to cling to.  With painting, sculpture, film, and dance, you have tangible things you can see: a canvas, a piece of marble, bodies in movement on a stage, a flickering screen.  Music can be heard.  Even the culinary arts engage our senses of smell and taste.  Only writing exists in such an abstract form, tiny curlicues and intricate shapes of black ink against the backdrop of a white page. 

Perhaps it's the abstractness of the medium that makes it so powerful.   What other art can deliver to you ancient Greece intact?  Take you into a magical world filled with wizards and house-elves?  Unveil the inner world of a tortured woman searching for sanity through her yellow wallpaper?  No wonder we are so often disappointed when we see the filmed version of a book.  Movies take place on a screen in front of us, but books take place inside our heads.  It's no surprise that films pale in comparison.

            We know how valuable stories are because people guard them like priceless treasures, passing them down from generation to generation, in unbroken chains that stretch back thousands of years.  When the sea of reeds parted so that the fleeing Israelites could pass safely through, Miriam sang a song.  We no longer know the melody she used, but we have her words, handed down to us with care by generations of storytellers and scribes.  Stories persist because we understand instinctively how important they are, and how irreplaceable.  It's the reason we still talk about Abraham and Gilgamesh, Odysseus and Oedipus.  The cultures that gave rise to these heroes are long gone, but their stories endure.

When you live in a culture that measures value in dollars, it's hard to argue in favor of an activity that may never earn you a cent.  But this is true for any artist working with any medium.  Part of writing for the twenty-first century means engaging with writers of all kinds the published and the unpublished and discovering the myriad of opportunities for you to share and develop your talent.  By telling your story, you become one more link in that great chain of storytellers, dedicated to capturing the human spirit, stretching from ancient to modern times. 

The need for storytellers has never been greater, for through them communities are born.  Only by exploring who we are and reflecting on our past can we create a common vision for the future.  Tell your story, and help illuminate the world.

How to Give Feedback

Nothing is more critical to the successful running of a writing group than the way the members give feedback to one another.  Remember those writers with hefty egos that we talked about in an earlier section?  They are also surprisingly sensitive.  Their manuscripts are their babies their flesh and blood and they will not take your criticism of them lightly, any more than they would if you told that their children are ugly, and stupid to boot.

But wait a minute, you say.  Didn't you tell us at the very beginning that writers need honesty?  That was the reason we left our relatives out of our group!

Of course.  It's all a question of how that honest feedback is delivered.  It may be useful here to return to the reason you all joined a writing group in the first place.   The purpose was to help one another, hand-in-hand to climb the ladder of success.  And so the first and last rule of giving feedback is to be helpful to one another.

This is not as easy as it sounds.  We are all taught to conflate critiquing with criticism, and criticism with identifying what is wrong with a piece of writing. We make a long list of negatives everything we don't like about a manuscript deliver it to the writer, and sit back with smug satisfaction, believing we have done our job.

No, no, and again, no.  No group will ever survive such an approach.  It's the reason so many writers leave traditional workshops and classes in tears, vowing never to write again.  It's destructive, and even worse than that, useless.  Your primary mission as a group member is to be helpful, while still being honest.  Here's how.

Let's begin with those all-important words read and critique.  Replace them with listen and respond.   Remember the storytelling model we opened this book with, the image of the group drawn to the fire, listening to the singer chant her tale?   When you take a new manuscript in hand, imagine yourself there.  Read as though you are listening.  You might even want to read the manuscript out loud.  Your goal here is to identify, as best as you can, the story the writer is trying to tell.  Who are the main characters?  What happens to them?  What are the crucial events that occur in the story?  Where does the story take place?  Now write down the answers to those questions as carefully as you can.  This is the first level of your response.  It may seem ridiculously simple and obvious, but it's harder than you think.  It's also extremely important.  Every writer sends a manuscript out into the world wondering: will they understand the story I am trying to tell?  Will they see what I see?  By repeating back to the writer what you have gotten from her tale, you will go a long way towards answering her questions and giving her the help she needs.

Once you have finished this first, crucial level of response, you are ready to go on to the second.  Think about the manuscript you have read again.  This time, concentrate on images, tone, voice, and style on those elements that determine not just what the story is but how it is told.  What kind of feeling does the story give you?  What themes does it bring to your mind?  What are the larger issues that the writer is engaging?  Does the story celebrate the redeeming power of love?  Mourn the fleeting nature of life?  Again, write down your impressions.  The writer will want to know.  As a matter of fact, you may surprise him.  Many writers are truly astonished to discover the themes their works evoke in others how rich their stories are.

Now it is time for the third element of your response.  Think once more about the story you have just read, but this time identify the parts you admired the most.  Every writer has strengths, and it's time you told the writer what you think they are.  Is he a whiz at dialogue?  Expert at setting a scene?  Tell him.  He will be glad to know.  By showing him his strengths, you will enable him to build on them, and his writing will improve.

Next think about the aspects of the story that you had trouble with.  Was there too much description, and it slowed the story down?  Were there places you found confusing, or gaps you got lost in?  Write the problems down.  Once more the writer needs to know.

Finally think hard about the problems you have identified.  How would you, as a writer, address them?  If you think there is too much description, can you show the writer places to condense or cut?  If you think a character is too undeveloped, can you give the writer ideas on how to make him more clear?  Your job here is to brainstorm, to give the writer possible solutions.  Whether or not she ultimately adopts them is up to her.  Writers always have the final say on their manuscripts.  Your job is to guide them to the point where they feel satisfied, not to rewrite their stories for them as tempting as that may sometimes feel.  By brainstorming solutions, you make sure that you are not leaving the writer in the dark.  Furthermore, you are practicing the very same skills you will need later on, when you identify problems in your own writing, and search for ways to resolve them.

Brainstorming is the key element that distinguishes feedback from a writing group from critique by other kinds of reviewers, such a movie or theater critics.  Critics don't have to think about how to improve the pieces they are reviewing.  All they have to decide is whether or not they like what they have seen.  For the purposes of a writing group, whether or not you like something is almost beside the point.  It is certainly of little use to the writer.  You might cringe at scenes of bloody carnage, but that doesn't mean other people won't clamor for them.  Your job is to tell the writer whether or not she has achieved in a workable fashion the goal she set out for herself if she has succeeded in telling the story she wanted to tell.

Once you have finished composing your response, you will be ready to send it back to the writer.  She will be glad to receive it, for you will be giving her the information she needs.  She will know what is working in her story and what isn't.  Most important, she will know what it means to others, both in terms of the events she narrates, and the themes she develops.  She will be equipped to continue working on it, and will feel inspired to do so.  And all because you helped.

These guidelines are suited to any kind of manuscript, but especially the ones you will most often be asked to read for your group: drafts of unfinished stories, and works in progress.  As time goes on, and your group matures, you will find yourself receiving finished works to respond to also, from short stories to complete novels.  At that point, you might decide to put other feedback principles into place, more specific and directed.  We have included some in our appendix, listed under Guidelines for Advanced Feedback.  You will also want to avail yourself of a good book on revision, if you haven't already.   Again, we include our favorites in the bibliography at the end of this book.

In the meantime, lest you are worrying about how much time you're going to be devoting to writing responses to the manuscripts you receive from your group, and how doing all that work for others will benefit you, it's time to turn to our next topic.