The Joys of a Critique Group--When It Really, Really Fits

Last fall, I took a class at a literary center. The class was called Master Mondays--Fiction. (Please stick your snoot in the air when you say its name.) 

Peter Geye, pronounced Guy. As in Big Guy.

In this case, it really was a Master Monday's class. The teacher was Peter Geye (Safe From The Sea, The Light-house Road and a new book coming out with Knopf, which I believe is called The Winterers.) Peter isn't just an extraordinary novelist, he's also a, well, master teacher. He created a class that was respectful, thoughtful and exciting, and he lucked out with the quality of the students who joined. Though some people weren't, um, masters quite yet, the level or writing was still extremely high, and the level of critique higher yet. 

Out of this group, a few people decided to continue on our own. These are writers who not only know their strengths and weaknesses, but have spent years challenging them. They're all grownups, too, calm enough that the drama is on the page, not at the meetings. The writing, thank heavens, is terrific, and fascinating. I can't wait to read people's pages. They are that good. 

We meet again tomorrow so I'm tap-dancing around the house today. It's terrific to be around smart, caring people who love writing. Yahoo! 

Lonely Arts Club

Last night, I attended our city's first ever Lonely Arts Club, a speed dating event to find critique partners for writers. This is a terrific idea. The folk who ran it were playful and cute. They held it at a hip micro-brewery, dressed as waiters and waitresses, and handed us a menu for a communal writing exercise, like the story-telling game you play with little kids, tossing the plot around a circle.

Okay, that worked better in concept than in reality, but it was soon over and we were able to get to the meat of meeting other writers.

After some false starts, the organizers worked out the speed dating aspect as well. My side of the long table wound up hopping sideways, like fleas, to shout across the table at another writer--okay, the acoustics were horrible. I met a damned good short-story writer. I know she can write,
because she was next to me during the writing exercise. I met other writers who exuded confidence and possibilities. All in all, it was just plain fun, even though I have a mild-concussion thanks to a tall teenager who thought the back of my ice skates were third base and slid into them full speed last Sunday.

Writing is a lonely art. I'm an introvert, so that is mostly fine, but I love being able to shoot pages to someone or having them send me theirs. I find, though, that it can be extremely difficult, when you don't write genre and after you reach a certain level of technique, to find a critique group or peers.

Also, right now, I'm desperately seeking someone to read a revision of my first chapters, which an agent has requested and which I finished weeks ago--I think this is a very good revision--but am not willing to send it out without that careful read by an intelligent writer. My go-tos have either read my opening ad nauseum, or this friend's child is in crisis, this one's mother is in the hospital, this one is planning her wedding and applying to Journalism school, several work and are taking classes, too. I love people who can say no--it makes me know where I stand--but I do wish I could find a wise, thoughtful beta reader for these pages. Right now!

Any offers?