Last night, I reached a breaking point. I decided to redirect the energies I have heretofore devoted to my local writing club to something that might better satisfy my needs. I have wanted to talk about writing, to explore writing, to orchestrate writing retreats, and to do other things designed to improve my writing skills and the skills of those around me who share my interests. Instead, I have shuffled my feet while trying to push an all volunteer body to do things it wasn’t prepared to do. So, pardon my French, screw it. I will do on my own the things I could not get the “organization” to do.
I have appreciated the critique group, immensely; but beyond that, my efforts have felt like I’m wading through brown sugar awash in molasses. The interest is there, but the commitment is not. I don’t want to wait until next year or even next month; if we decide to act, let’s effing ACT!
There are few people I’d call serious writers among the group. That’s a problem. A bigger problem is that some of the serious writers act as if they have a thousand years to get things done. We’re a geezerhood; we have limited time! So, I’m on my own. I will announce my decision to sever most, if not all, ties very soon. I won’t be held back by people who are slogging through molasses, by god!
My mood, as I write this, is not as charitable as I’d like it to be. But that’s the real world, isn’t is? That’s what we write about, isn’t it? We acknowledge the bullshit in the paths we follow and we unceremoniously kick it out of the way.
I can understand this. There are more than the “norm of writers” who write because they see it as a nice little past-time, possibly with the dreamy, half-thought they will strike upon novel, even if it’s self-published. I get lots of students like this, and nothing could be further from the truth.
Most always amateur writers begin with some biographical story, as if “their life” had something more to offer than a carefully crafted piece by Hemingway….and I refer to Hemingway here, because he was “perfectly” into the craft of forming the perfect sentence — to say as much as possible in as few words as possible.
I love these words from Flannery O’Connor (a favorite writer of mine):
“Everywhere I go, I’m asked if I think the universities stifle writers. My opinion is that they don’t stifle enough of them. There’s many a best seller that could have been prevented by a good teacher.”
The point is to be true to your craft and not subjected to vanity.
I think and see that you are true to the craft!
you go, guy!