It Takes a Village
By Kathleen McCleary | October 17, 2018 |

Flickr Creative Commons: Jeff Kubina
Last week in the creative writing workshop I teach, one of the students shared her latest short story with the group. None of these kids—ages 13-17—know each other outside our class. They all attend different schools. One is an outgoing 6’5” 17-year-old rower who loves fantasy fiction; another is a shy and brilliant 14-year-old who writes realistic fiction about the terrors of high school. Anyway, we all read Riya’s story and one of the students immediately said, “I love this. This story is just CLASSIC Riya.” And I thought, Bingo!
My thought wasn’t a response to the student’s comment; it was a response to the meaning behind the comment—I know you, I know your writing, you have a voice that is only yours, I get you. It was the validation we all hope for—to be seen and heard and understood. It was also affirmation that our little workshop of 6 (including me) has become a real community, a group of people who are working hard, making themselves vulnerable, challenging each other, and rooting for each other’s success as much as their own. It took me many years to understand the important role of community in my writing, and I couldn’t have written—let alone published—any of my novels without the various writers, readers, students, teachers, friends, and family who make up my communities.
Here’s what I love about my writing communities:
A community keeps you honest. I wrote half of my first novel sitting alone in my house without showing it to a soul. I had no idea what I was doing or whether or not it was any good and I was stuck. So I took an online novel-writing class. Every week, the instructor and seven or eight other students read whatever chapter I posted. I was warmed by the positive feedback—they liked it! They really liked it!—but they also pointed out that the reason I was stuck was because I had taken the plot in a direction that was way too complicated, difficult to follow, and didn’t make a lot of sense. It was hard to hear, but it was also true. It gave me the courage I needed to delete the chapters that didn’t work and forge ahead in a new direction. Now I’m in a critique group with four other published authors. We genuinely like each other and admire each other’s work, but we also tell the truth. When one writer showed us the climactic chapter of her crime thriller we congratulated her on getting the book done, then pointed out the flaws that made the chapter totally implausible. We hashed out all the reasons it didn’t work. She was embarrassed (she’s a pro who had published four novels by then) but also agreed. The next week she rewrote the chapter with a brilliant, unexpected twist that couldn’t have worked better.
A community keeps you going. Have I told you about the hell that was my second novel? I’m sure I have, because I’ve told just about everybody. I struggled to write it and rewrote it and rewrote it and despaired and it took me YEARS. But my community—in this case, my Fiction Writers’ Co-op, a private Facebook group of 50 writers—kept me going. I would post about whatever roadblock I encountered—I don’t know who this character is, my agent read a first draft and hates it—and friend after friend in the Co-op would respond with words of encouragement, tales of their own nightmare novels, and a steady belief that I could do it. I didn’t believe I could do it, but they did, and that was enough to get me through.
A community understands what a difficult, crazy life this is. Once I was so deep in the throes of my second novel (set in the San Juan Islands), that when I emerged from my office to get a drink of water I actually said to my husband, “God, it’s good to be home.” “Where have you been?” he said. I’m sure you’ve all had moments like that, and nights in which you couldn’t sleep because your characters kept you up, etc. I’m sure, too, that you’ve struggled to find an agent, or figure out a pitch, or tried to deconstruct what type of book might sell best in today’s market (if you figure it out, give me a call). It’s nice to have colleagues to commiserate with around the virtual water-cooler, or who can provide insights into part of the process or the business that seem shrouded in mystery.
A community lifts you up. When one of the writers in my Co-op or my critique group finishes writing a first draft or sells a new manuscript or hits a bestseller list or a huge sales benchmark (100,000 copies sold!), I feel genuinely, radically happy for them. Writing is hard and success does not come easily or often. We spread the word about each other’s new releases on social media, we congratulate each other (and mean it), we pass along referrals to manuscript editors or agents. Success is not pie. One person’s bestseller doesn’t mean none of us can ever write a best-seller. It means people buy and read good books and there’s hope for all of us.
Finally, as wonderful as communities are, they should never drown out the quiet, steady voice that is your story. Writing communities are not about editing by committee, or writing the story for you. They’re there to shout encouragement when you’re stuck and can’t cross the river, or to congratulate you when you pull ahead, but they can’t carry you. It’s still up to you to plow ahead, step by step, with your own inner voice as your guiding compass.
But take it from me: it would be a lonely, impossible journey without them.
What role does community play in your writing? Do you think writers need community?
[coffee]
I love the story about your workshop, Kathleen. It must feel amazing–and no doubt beneficial–to be in the tutor role in such a well-connected and aspiring group.
It’s funny, I’ve thought a lot about community over the years. Mine has played a vital role in my journey. I’m currently at a point where it feels like I need to pull back from online community for a bit. I need to find my way to some things on my own (not to mention make some real progress, and gain some focus).
But one of the things that is enabling me to deal with the solitude, lack of day-to-day encouragement, and occasion plain-ole’ loneliness is knowing that my community is still out there. Whether I’m in their daily newsfeed or not, they’ve got my back. I’m confident they’ll welcome me back when I’m ready to return from my metaphoric writing cabin in the woods.
Community is like a writerly safety net, and though I haven’t interacted with mine in a few months, I appreciate them as much as ever before. Thanks for the reminder.
Thanks, Vaughn. Community as a writerly safety net is the perfect way to describe it. And your point about pulling back as needed is excellent. I just returned from a LITERAL five days in the woods. Cheers.
Thanks for sharing, and for helping to create a supportive community for young writers. Teenage years can be disorienting and lonely, so it’s really wonderful to hear how your students are helping each other do what they love.
The timing of this post is a bit bittersweet for me, since I’ve had a lot of trouble finding a writing group. It’s not that I can’t find other people to critique my writing: rather, I keep getting feedback that’s genuinely unhelpful. I’m fortunate enough to have one person who has been absolutely great and his comments have really helped me improve my work, but one person does not a community make. Do you have any advice for finding or building the type of writing community you’ve described?
This is such an excellent point, Eugene, about how to find a community that restores and encourages you and doesn’t erode your confidence or leave you feeling depleted. And I should have written more about how to find that (so thanks for the opportunity). I found mine through the cliched-but-true trial and error. I have found my communities through writing classes (both online and in-person); through meeting other writers at bookstores and book events and book festivals; and once even through a
notice on a bulletin board in my local
Indie bookstore. If your community spends more time criticizing than praising your writing, find another community. The rule in my teen workshop is that everyone has to make two positive statements before jumping in to pointing out what doesn’t work. Your gut instincts are good. And, as Vaughn points out, sometimes we all need to withdraw from community to pay attention to the quiet inner voice that drives us to tell our stories in the first place. Good luck.
Thanks so much! It’s really encouraging knowing that you had to go through some groups that didn’t work to find ones that did. I also really like your rule for your teens; we all tend to be our own worst critics, and that goes doubly so for teenagers, so being told what they’re doing well must be so encouraging.
Fortunately, with one exception, it’s been less that people have been cruel to me and more that they’ve tried to get me to change fundamental aspects of the work (i.e., wanting me to add an action-packed, heart-pounding opening when that’s not appropriate for what happens in the rest of the book) or being too vague for me to understand or fix the problem they’re trying to point out. I think these experiences have helped me get better at giving feedback though, so they’ve been good learning opportunities in that way.
I must admit, I’m a bit envious of your writing class and your network of writers who serve as critique partners, Kathleen. I think a good community would help me.
I’ve looked locally and online to find a critique group to join. So far, I haven’t found any that are welcoming new members. I’ve taken some classes and I’ve reached out to classmates after the course to see if they’d like to become critique partners, but that hasn’t borne fruit.
This website and a couple of others offer places where I can hear about other writers’ approaches to their craft. That helps, but it’s not the feedback on my work or learning how to improve a piece by offering suggestions to a colleague. My classes taught me the value in giving and receiving feedback, and I’d like to have that as a regular part of my writing.
I’ll keep writing and looking for critique partners as I go. I do think a community can help sustain us when the writing is hard. And celebrating each other’s victories, especially when we know how hard-won they are, makes them sweeter.
I hope you find a good writing partner or two, Ruth. As with most things, it really just takes one person who “gets” you and your writing to be a good sounding board. For the first few years I was writing fiction I had a virtual critique group made up of 4 people from my online novel writing class. We never met in person, but we sent each other chapters of our WIPs and gave each other feedback for almost 2 years. It really helped. And yes, it’s a great joy to have someone to share the victories with.
Hi Kathleen, years ago I was in a writers group and then I moved. Now Writer Unboxed and Women’s Fiction Writers Association are my tribe. But I do miss that close and warm comraderie of sharing and critiquing, and I must read Leaving Heaven as I have enjoyed your previous novels.
Hi, Beth! It’s always good to find you here. I hope you can find a writer or two in your new location and get a group going. But that said, WU is a dang good tribe. Good luck.
Kathleen, it is so wonderful you are mentoring teens. I’m debating doing this as well, build a writing community right here on the island, once my younger teenager leaves home too, but I’m a little bit torn. I’ve been mentoring others for so long, I miss being in a critique group with other, better writers. I have online partners but it’s just not the same.
Beth, Ruth, and Eugene, I hear you. I hope you will find your tribe where you’re at.
Thanks, Vijaya. I do think working with teens pushes me to be better at my my own writing—I learn things from them every time we meet. And it is good to have an in -person group if you can find one. I’d encourage everyone to approach potential critique partners or groups with an open mind. My critique group, for instance includes a writer of crime thrillers, a writer of supernatural fantasy fiction, a writer of dark literary fiction, and me, who writes domestic stories about ordinary people. We are from four very different genres (and I admit, several of those are genres I never ordinarily read and/or don’t like) and yet story is story and character is character and our group has been tremendous at elevating each other’s work. But I know the right mix of PERSONALITIES can be hard to find. Good luck, and thanks for all the mentoring you do!
WU is the closest I come to a writing community now. I have belonged to several writers’ groups over the years and found some very helpful, especially early on, but others, including the last one I tried out, felt like a waste of my time. The value of the feedback you get in a group has to be worth the time spent carefully reading and evaluating the submissions of the other members. (Yes, I know you can learn a lot about good writing from reading and critiquing as well.)
Sometimes I wish I could get immediate feedback on my current WIP, but I’d have to be confident that whoever was providing the feedback had the same taste in crime fiction as I (and my readers) do. I’m at almost 90K words now, and heading into the home stretch, so will soon be getting important feedback from my loyal readers.
I like to think my writing is improving with each book I publish, and so far the reviews bear that out. I don’t take it for granted, though. It seems that some series writers, including some extremely successful ones, get overconfident and stop listening to criticism. (Or do they just get bored with their characters?) If my next book is a disappointment to my readers, I’ll know I’ve got to again turn to my community for help.
It sounds like your Writopia work is helping shape a new generation of fiction writers. Kudos to you, Kathleen, and thanks for reminding us of the value of community.
The point of a Writers’ Group is that they tell you what you don’t want to hear, and naturally resist.
There is certainly truth to that, David. Some truths are hard but necessary (and we’ve all killed our darlings, be they characters, plot twists, beloved sentences, or entire manuscripts). But there’s a balance between feedback that spots flaws and helps the writer take the work to the next level and feedback that is so discouraging the writer never wants to pick up a (virtual) pen again. It’s tough to find.
Are communities important?
Yes (underlined three times)
But as a (proud) introvert, community hasn’t always been easy for me to access.
My solution: blogging.
And it’s worked for 13 years.
During that time I’ve also been blessed to find partners, groups and first readers. But still, I blog.
While I agree that communities are important, I think it’s important for writers to realize that there are some communities out here that are downright toxic, filled with writers who just love to tear other writers down because they feel inadequate. Constructive criticism is one thing. Bitch crit is something else. I’ve seen so-called English Lit teachers who gleefully cut down anyone they perceived to be a threat. If they can’t write why should they try to help someone else? Or writers who decided to ‘borrow’ or steal other writers’ ideas and re-package them as their own.
Do I speak from personal experience? I sure do. And when I ditched the group and went searching for a more reasonable environment I was told by other writers that I was too thin skinned and that I should toughen up. The turnover rate in that particular group was insane.
I suppose writers stubbornly stick to such groups because they have invested so much time there that they don’t want to leave and go somewhere else. That’s a big mistake. I used my time there as a learning experience. Now I know what to watch out for.
Oh how I wish when I was in high school I had you and your reading community! I have some fans that spur me on, but I don’t have a workshop style community. I have one terrific reader who comments and spurs me along as I write; and I have a few who read the first draft. Have you considered creating an adult group? I think there are many here who love that….