A few years ago, I went to creative writing classes. Classes are all well and good, but there’s only so many times you can be told how to write well. My writing projects were stagnating; I needed something else.
I came across a website called Meetup, which allows people with similar interests to meet up. There are all sorts of interests represented, for example, exercise, making friends, software. There are also book clubs and writing groups.
I found one such writing group that said it wanted to help with writer’s block and motivation and that kind of thing. It sounded like just what I needed. I joined it and said I’d attend the next meeting. When the time came, I was nervous: I was meeting a group of strangers. We’d been set the task of writing a haiku, which we’d read out. I had never written one before; would everyone have the perfect, polished verse, and shoot mine down in flames? No. Everyone had written one or more; some were, in my opinion, better than others, but each one was kindly received. It’s hard to write something and read it out to a group of people. But it was a safe environment in which to do so. I decided to go to the next one.
I’ve been going ever since. It’s helped me find the motivation to write again, to find enjoyment in it. It’s made me remember I like writing poetry, playing with words and language. I’ve returned to Stalked, which is developing quite nicely now. It’s still a rubbish first draft, but that first draft is so much better to have than no draft.
For this, I’m grateful to the writing group and its quirky collection of members.