CRISIS IN THE CRITIQUE GROUP-Part II
Writing is deeply personal, even if the creator holds the desire to sell the offspring. The reward and challenge of belonging to a critique group is that we meet our fellow human beings where they live, in that place of exposure of the human heart and soul. No wonder we occasionally run into problems. In part one, Crisis in the Critique Group, I outlined five difficulties that can turn even the seasoned wine of a great group into sour grapes. Now I'll present four more problems and possible solutions.
1. Square Pegs
What should a group do when a person does not mesh with a group's agreements, but persists in staying? It depends on how disruptive the writer is. My groups, for instance, have always been for writers who seek to publish. Once in awhile, someone will decide or discover a desire to write for pleasure or self-expression, but not publication. If discussions of marketing become unpleasant or odious, there will be tension in the group, but perhaps not enough to create rift. In time, that person will drop out, and the group will be relieved, I guarantee.
But what of the person who sucks the life out of the group? The tortured soul who needs therapy. The leech who wants to get but not give. I once had to deal with a perfectly nice person and wonderful writer but for the fact that he interrupted all the time. Sometimes, his sentences would begin, "Sorry to interrupt, but" and then he'd still interrupt. Talking with him privately made zero difference, so I developed zero tolerance.
Several decades ago, I was a new member of a critique group that almost broke up because no one wanted to confront the square peg. Instead, members talked secretly and at length, and considered disbanding and reforming without the undesirable member -- as if doing this would never get back to her. In the end, our problem person solved our group problem for us; she died--of natural causes. You should not wait for this to happen!
If your group has a leader, this person should deliver the pink slip. Otherwise, draw straws. I doubt anyone feels good at confrontations or about rejecting others. However, the best approach is a direct approach. Allow some saving face by meeting privately. Be diplomatic, yes. Acknowledge the positive contribution the person has made (there must be something). Briefly outline the reasons why the person must leave, and offer an alternative -- another group, an online workshop, or professional editing. Avoid defending your reasons and try not to respond to personal attacks. Over the last fifteen years, I've had people go quietly, argue with the decision, and be nasty. In every case, I believed the need for the person to leave was not only in the group's best interests but also in the writer's best interests.
2. Time Hogs
We've all been one. Time hogs run over their allotted time and force other writers to settle for less. When you are the recipient of a critique, you're on the hot seat. Anxiety or excitement can easily distract you and distort your awareness of time. You may not realize your time is up. This problem is easy to solve. Set a stopwatch or timer and let objective precision keep everyone playing fair.
On the other hand, you or your group may be like me and dislike this solution because of the objectivity and the precision. Artistic discovery is an imprecise process. When group members are working together to discover why a piece of writing isn't working, or to brainstorm exciting possibilities, it's worth going overtime -- within limits -- in my opinion.
You may try remedies other than a time piece: stay later than usual to compensate for lost time; look for a make-up reading time; or, see if everyone can take a reading home for editing or to discuss at the next meeting. Another idea is to assign a timekeeper or rotate the task. Taking turns may make better time managers of all members. Discuss the problem and reach a solution that everyone can live with. If your group has a chronic limit-pusher, someone with just one more question, just one more explanation, your only solution may be the 'ding' of the timer.
3. Imitators
Imitation may be the highest form of flattery, but it is the one limitation on artistic expression that must exist in a critique group. When a writer's setting, characters, imagery, plot, subject matter, or even style strongly resembles another group member's writing of the same, it is probably unconscious. You may think this problem rarely rears its ugly head in most groups, but it is much more common than you'd think. When this plagiarism happened in one of my groups, I had spoken about the resemblance to the imitator even before the writer of the original called me. The imitation destroyed trust to the extent that the writer was not only considering dropping out of the group but was considering legal action.
I sat down with both writers, and the imitator. He explained how entirely unconscious his imitation had been. As his amends, he offered to revise his work and give the writer carte blanche to accept or reject any part of the revision that still seemed derivative. In the end, they forged a fragile agreement, and neither person left the group.
Even a hint of resemblance can weaken group trust. Suppose a writer wants to craft a romance set on an eastern Oregon ranch where a city girl meets the hunk of her dreams, a cowboy who also enjoys gourmet cooking. But if you're in a group where someone else has just written a western romance, with a cowboy who is a real stud-muffin, a baker extraordinaire, the imitator must axe her idea. Too similar.
A high level of trust is vital to the health of every group. If your group does not have a leader who will address imitation, or even more subtle forms of resemblance, the task may fall to whoever has written the original. If that person is you, voice your concern and suggest your remedy, per the above. But don't suffer in silence.
3. Malaise
Any group that meets over a long time will suffer periods of low energy or malaise. If left untreated, your group could blink out for lack of enthusiasm to do otherwise. Malaise means that energy is going elsewhere, though the bodies may appear and go through the motions of a critique group. If even a few members of a group are chronically sick, recovering from surgery, or taking sabbaticals for personal or family matters, then the functioning members may not be able to carry the group.
Although I've always had a policy of 60% attendance, I've recently felt a need to remind members of it. The result has been heartening--the heart has come back into the two groups that suffered with malaise. In each group, several members re-evaluated their commitment and decided to take time off. They felt less guilty and the remaining members, and new members, felt a new spirit, a new seriousness.
A death of a group member can profoundly affect a group's spirit. While there is nothing anyone can do to change external circumstances, you can sometimes break the pall by talking with each other about the low energy and the reasons for it. If the group collectively accepts that 'these things happen' and knows that 'this too shall pass,' your group will come through the low period to experience a renewal.
Low energy or stagnation can have its roots in other causes. Sometimes groups end because people have different needs or their writing has evolved. The form of a group should fit the needs of the member and not visa versa. For instance, two of my groups have met for about a decade and many members have written so many novels, they've lost count. Receiving critique of about 35 pages of a book in a ten-week period is too slow. However, no one relishes a weekly stack of take-home reading and editing. Yet, everyone agrees that constructive criticism is an essential part of improving writing.
So what can be done? We're discussing various ideas that could be added to the weekly meeting. We begun taking an additional 15-20 pages home each week for slow reading and editing. We may try going on a retreat weekend just to read and evaluate whole novels for each other, and to whip query letters and synopses into shape.
Sometimes a solution to malaise is as simple as having a potluck or holding a marketing contest: Whoever brings in the most rejection--or acceptance--letters in a given time wins. Change one thing from the way you've always done it, and everything may change, and let's hope to the better.
©2001 Elizabeth Lyon