hrj

This past Saturday, my friends klwilliams and desperance held an improptu backyard writers' retreat. A small bunch of us sat around, laptops open, being quietly productive together, interspersed with conversation and food. (The failure mode, of course, is for conversation and food to predominate, but it was mostly writing.)

There have only been a couple of times in my life when I've had access to writing groups that were a potential fit for what I was doing. Back when I was working for MZBFM, most of the staff were writers of some sort and we periodically tried mutual critique sessions with variable success. I confess I've felt rather envious of the small impromptu writing community that Karen & Chaz have gathered around them, but the hour's drive is too far for most of their get-togethers. But when it comes down to it, I'm not entirely sure what an in-person writers' group would do for me. (I definitely have a vague amorphous online writing community and I treasure all of you.) There's always the useful discipline of having a space of time mapped out for writing, but if I can't do that by myself in my everyday life, then I don't know that I'd be motivated by the presence of other people. The benefit would be that indefinable difference in human connections that comes from sharing physical space. The sense of community that develops simply from habit and repetition. It's nothing to be sneezed at.

I think, sometimes, about writing workshops. I especially think about them when I listen to people talking about those human connections--about the way in which workshop co-participants can gain a life-long sense of fraternity. I think especially about the public ways in which workshop co-participants are seen to be supporting and promoting each others' work as professionals. I couldn't count the number of times I've heard an author excitedly discussing a forthcoming book and noting, "We were at Clarion together!" (Or insert some other similar workshop.)

And yet...and yet...you hear about the times when it happens. About the friendships and connections that do get made. I've had enough experiences to know that those things don't necessarily happen for me. Of course, the primary purpose of workshops is to gain mentoring on your writing and to improve your skills, but you don't need the intense face-to-face aspect for that. (And given the shape of my life, it wouldn't be the most efficient way for me to achieve those things. Yes, I'd like mentoring. Yes, of course I want to improve my skills. But I don't know that the hothouse atmosphere of a workshop would be the best way for me to do it.) So what happens if I scraped together the vacation time, cleared the decks writing-wise, and dedicated myself to investing in a workshop experience...and came out of it without those human connections?

It can be important to distinguish between the apparent effects of an experience and the practical realities. Just as having a local writers' group wouldn't necessarily help me write more, and attending an intensive workshop wouldn't necessarily give me the specific skills that I need for my own purposes, there's no point in enviously watching the special comradery of workshop alumni groups and thinking that there's any magic to it. It's a Thing, but it's not the only Thing.