Or, rather, I was invited to join an established writing group, and I said yes.
I first met Kevin back east, at our Yale Conference. In 2012. If I’m not mistaken, we met at breakfast in the Calhoun dining hall and discovered, over scrambled eggs and bacon and cereal and fruit and bagels and sugar-filled-coffee and oatmeal (we writers can eat). Kevin and I met again at this year’s conference, and he sent me an email when we got back asking if I’d like to join his (long established) writing group.
I have all the women, bloggers many, I met on-line. I have my Yale group, women I meet with periodically via Skype (as most are in NYC). But I haven’t been part of an in-person writing group in too-many years. There is something to be said for a group that meets every 2 weeks: you have to show up with something, and you have to be ready to contribute.
Today I met with my new group.
And, because one member had an appointment to get to, I went first. (yikes!) I read 7 pages, out loud, and listened to their responses, took notes, talked about what I’m trying to do, asked for more input.
After 4 and 1/2 hours with these new people, I drove home in rush-hour traffic, stop and go, knowing I’d been at work all afternoon with smart, thoughtful people. New eyes on my work. My eyes on theirs.
Are you in a writing group? Tell me about it.