Writers Groups: Daffodils or Dungeon?

I can't speak for all writers, but I need an umbrella under which I may safely share my fledgling work prior to sharing it with the Cynic, the Unimpressed, and the Superior. I am still sensitive enough to seek out some affirmation from a few trusted confidants before sending it out to gallivant in the downpour of rejection by a larger audience. Hence, a writers' group.

I've been involved in groups of this kind only in writing classes, and have found that they can be the most motivating and inspirational experiences, where the people click and the writing flows like a well-fed stream. Of course next to the stream all these songbirds are just happy to be alive and eating bugs, with some mating thrown in for good measure, and out in the meadow there are all manner of benevolent humming bees, butterflies floating about from flower to flower, and the virtual writing desk is an inviting blanket with several fine-tipped pens of blue ink, a deliciously new composition pad, and a picnic basket full of fine cheeses, crackers, fruit, chocolates, and a few meandering ladybugs for effect. No wine, as this makes me feel less creative than feeling the need to take an unproductive nap, but perhaps some iced coffee instead. "The hiiiiiiiiiills are aliiiiiiiive with the sound of muuuuuuusiiic." This is what writing groups should be. And can be! Dear people! Are you with me? Skip with me through the meadow! Roll down the clover-laden hills where no fire ant has trod! Sample the Gouda! Let us write with joy and abandon!

Alternatively, without the right people, positive attitudes, and safety net, a writers' group could meet in their virtual damp, moldering basement where a single naked light bulb hangs from the ceiling and everyone has shifty eyes and tents their fingers gratuitously. Here, you have to be careful how cheerful you are, and must instead work hard to develop your defenses, as occasionally a fellow basement-dweller will smack you in the back of your head for no apparent reason, citing the alleged fact that there was a fly on the back of your head as an explanation, and then going back to practicing their eye shifts and nuanced finger tenting. But there was no fly. Or, at least you didn't see a fly, so a fly is doubtful. But then, this is a kind of depressing room, so maybe a fly would be apropos. But really--a fly? So you smack them in the back of the head and blame it on the fly as well.

Please do not try to delve too deeply in symbolism or meaning. The fly is not real. [Or is it?] Moving on:

Okay, okay, so some slight exaggeration has been used. Writing groups are probably somewhere in the middle, where we neither always have the best attitudes nor the worst, and our personalities at least function together in a manageable sort of way.

Mark, Kami, David, and I have met just twice so far, but so far so good. I've had the opportunity to work with Kami before. She has a journalism background, so she is most handy at stemming the tide of J'Non's excessive wordiness. We work well together. (See, Kami? That sentence was to the point and didn't even have a comma in it! Woo!) The fellows were wildcards, since I'd never worked with either of them in this capacity before. And since I'm married to one of them, of course you never know how those dynamics are going to work out.

Some moments which have crystallized in my mind for the first meeting:

Kami looks like she is seriously entertaining the idea of dumping perfectly good Starbuck's on my head when I suggest that she read her deeply personal poem out loud. In Starbuck's. It's a good thing she hasn't yet honed her ability to use the Force to be able to choke me with her mind from across the table like Darth Vader. Whew! That was a close one.

David, Kami, and I try to suppress any obnoxiously loud laughter over Mark's humor piece, with varying success. At one point Kami gets so entertained that she starts bonking her forehead on the table. It was kind of loud. And just made me laugh more.

We spend several minutes on the onomatopoeia choice of "zik, zik, zik" for the sound that corduroy pants make when you walk. I mean, this is a sparkling example of the kind of literary gems you can find in a writers' group! Yessss!

The encouragement to keep writing is such a boon, and further convinces me that these are absolutely vital to successful and rewarding experiences in writing.