Writing Groups - My Journey for Acceptance

The Good, The Bad, The Ups and Downs

Hi Storytellers,

A. E. here.

Writing groups. A community of like-minded writers who come and write together, experience life together and generally become close friends and comrades. At least that’s what a writing group is supposed to be like, isn’t it?

Let’s talk about writing groups, Storytellers.

For most of my life, I was a solo act. I didn’t know anyone else who was a writer, and so I wrote alone for years. I became desperate to meet other writers, and to have a community, to have someone else to talk to about writing and write together.

I didn’t meet another writer until I went to undergrad at University of West Georgia, and I heard that the creative writing department had a student writing group, called The Creative Writing Guild.

A small disclaimer that this is my personal experience with the Creative Writing Guild at the University of West Georgia. Now the group went defunct soon after I joined because it was full of senior students, and when they all graduated I was the last member.

I am talking about the 2013-2014/2015 Creative Writing Guild that was not so welcoming and not so creative. I then reached out to the professor about reworking the club so it would accept and let students who write sci-fi and fantasy take part. I never heard back from the professor, and that was the end of the Creative Writing Guild while I still attended the school.

If the Creative Writing Guild has gotten back together and started being more open to other genres besides poetry and literary fiction, then that is not the Guild I am talking about. So that’s the disclaimer, and on to my personal story.

This takes place during my beginning years at UWG, so I’m not fully aware about the elitist academic attitude towards creative writing yet, but I’ve definitely started to get a bad feeling overall. I’ve had several creative writing classes with professors who’ve proven themselves to dislike any genre of writing that’s not poetry, literary fiction or creative nonfiction. I’ve heard them say the words “cheap, generic, trash” anytime I mention my love of fantasy and sci-fi.

Again, I’ve never met any other writers, and I’m longing for connection. So, I went to join the Creative Writing Guild, full of joy and excitement and anticipation. Only to be met with students who had the same elitist snobby attitude towards sci-fi and fantasy.

When I first entered the room, they were standoffish and cliquey, they didn’t talk to me or try to make me feel welcome. The majority of the students there didn’t even come over and introduce themselves to me.

There were two people who talked to me, one who was the leader. The other I had shared a creative writing class with, we even sat next to each other, so I hoped she would be my friend (as I didn’t have any friends just yet.)

So when I mentioned I liked to write fantasy, the woman I was talking to, let’s call her Alice, smiled in this really sardonic way. At the same time, a group of students were coming into the room. And she called a man over, let’s call him Travis, and told him with that same smirk that I just told her I liked to write fantasy.

Travis, didn’t even attempt to talk to me, he in fact his turned face away from me and said he refuses to talk about it and stalked away.

That moment, watching this grown man put his nose in the air and adamantly refuse to talk about fantasy genre like its something so beneath him that he wouldn’t waste his breath, I knew I had made a big mistake. This was NOT a creative writing guild. I watched him go and sit down with a group of others.

Imagine the room at this point. It was rather spacious, and had a lot of windows. The seating had couches and armchairs at one side. And the opposite end was several circle tables with chairs. The Creative Writing Guild sat at the tables.

I was sitting alone on the couch.

They never once called me over to sit with them, they never once introduced themselves, they didn’t attempt to bring me into the conversation or ask me my name or anything. They were a group, and I was an outsider.

I guess I should mention that I was the only black person there and everyone else was white, but I honestly didn’t get the idea that this was a race thing. This was an elitist thing. They believed any genre besides poetry and literary fiction was worthless and not even worth talking about. I had ousted myself as “cheap, generic and trash” by admitting I liked fantasy, and was therefore not one of them.

That was my first meeting with the Creative Writing Guild. The second time, it was more of the same. They all got together in their big group, talking and laughing, and literally left me sitting at another table alone. At this point I still didn’t know anyone’s name, no one had asked me my name, they didn’t have me join the conversation.

Nothing.

So I left, and I never went back. Everyone in the group graduated, and like I said, when I reached out to the overseeing professor about restarting the Creative Writing Guild, and this time being more open to other genres, the professor never got back to me.

And that was the end of the Not-So Creative Writing Guild during the time I went there.

After that, I made a friend finally, let’s call her Wanda, and we decided to make our writing group, and we named it Writing Partners in Good Deeds (instead of In Crime, get it?) So we’d meet up either in my dorm or in her dorm, and write for two hours together. And even if we couldn’t meet up, we’d email each other our work to read it and comment on it. But this became rare over time especially after graduation and eventually Writing Partners in Good Deeds just slowly disappeared.

Simultaneously I joined a writing group at my church, and I did finally find community there. It was amazing! The group fully welcomed me, and I began to blossom not only as a writer but as a person. I learned confidence, and was even able to read my work out loud in front of an audience. One of the leaders of that writing group attended my undergrad graduation from University of West Georgia. This group was foundational in helping my confidence the same time UWG’s creative writing department was crumbling it. I promise I’ll talk about how bad UWG was soon.

Eventually that writing group came to an end, so I decided to host my own writing group at the church, and I named it Tell Your Story. It was short-lived. People rarely showed up, but when they did it was fun.

So I briefly mentioned Grub Street classes in my last post, which you can read here. It was in that class that I was meant to get a new writing group. The leader of the class said that in these classes the writers find a new time to meet after the class, and stay together to make their own writing group without Grub Street. So we did, and one of the writers made a form for everyone to vote. I pointed out the one time that I couldn’t meet. And that’s the time everyone else voted to meet, by deciding to have their meetings on the same time I said I wasn’t available. So I was effectively voted out of the group. I had noticed that whenever I emailed anyone I never got a response, so I suppose I was never really liked to begin with.

So I got discouraged about writing groups after that one. It’s hard to keep one, they dissolve after a while, people don’t stay consistent in one, or they don’t really accept you.

Then thanks to going to the Broadleaf Writers Association Conference, which I talked about my experience there here, I made a connection, and was able to join a new writing group. There I heard, “Welcome to the Group A. E.” with everyone clapping for me and man did I feel so incredibly welcomed.

I was able to hit my writing goal due to the support of the women there, and the amicable conversation was wonderful. I look forward to continuing to attend the group and I hope it’s a long-lasting writing community.

All I’ve ever wanted as a writer is to find someplace to belong. During my writing journey, (and as a human being really) I’ve been an outcast, shunned and rejected. So joining a zoom, and having a group of people cheer “A.E.!” because they had been expecting me, waiting to meet me, and happy to see me, well, that’s something I can’t ever take for granted.

That’s it for today, Storytellers.

Until next time, A.E.