Group Critiqued

Haven't belonged to a writer's group since 1980 or 81, when Lori P. left town. I liked Lori. I remember how thrilled I was when she invited me to the group. There were about six of us who met at her apartment once a week after work. Spouse would be there and just read while we met. There was no specific genre involved. No two of us were writing the same kind of work. And the group never got so far to review anything I wrote. After I attended just two or three meetings Lori announced that she was leaving the Minneapolis-St. Paul area. I forget if it was she or her husband who got the great job out of state, but they were jumping at the chance and leaving. The group disbanded.

Since that time I have not belonged to a writers' group. Not until last July. But I didn't actually attend a meeting until January of this year. (How's that for a New Year's Resolution?) At the end of the meeting I was invited to submit something of my own, should I have anything. By chance I did have something new. Apprentice. It was a short story I wrote just before Christmas.

As mentioned in my previous post, last night I was at my second meeting. This was the meeting when I would receive a critique of Apprentice. Another member had submitted the first chapter of his new book and I also did my first critique (since 1980 or 81). This was my first critique of a fantasy story, though. (I also added a few comments on one or two Evil Editor submissions, but those hardly count, I think. Haven't done so in at least a month. Maybe two. No confidence.)

There were only four in attendance, which was both bad and good. Having lots of people means getting lots of ideas and lots of help. So not having lots of people was bad. But having lots of people means getting lots of ideas which have to be sorted out, which is hard. So not having lots of people was good.

We did the other work first, which meant I got to demonstrate my critiqueing skills early. I don't think I did poorly. Not too poorly anyway. A good number of my points were shared by the other two, which I think gave them credibility. (When three out of three people who read what you wrote have the same reaction, the reaction is probably valid.) Each of us had something to say which the other two did not, so the author is going to have to sort that out. (That's what I mean about sorting out lots of idea.) When a person stands alone with their point they may be right, but they may just as easily be wrong. The author has to decide. Sometimes, fixing a work for one person only ruins it for everyone else. It's a risk.

My work came last. I confess to hoping there would not be much correction. I had already submitted it to a single person who had provided several important help suggestions. So I was thinking the story was fairly solid.

I got more comments than I expected. Several about word choice. A couple of Point of View miscues I missed. Some discomfort with some of my word choices. A section where I let the dialogue slip and it became confusing to keep up with who was speaking. And a couple of continuity issues. (The most humorous being when I put the characters in a room without windows and fail to explain where all the light is coming from.)

Probably, the most severe comment came last. What was the point? While all three liked the story, and the one member went so far to say that the prose was the story's strongest point, there was no real conflict. Basically, it is a story of two young women who fall in love. Okay. Good. Why is that important? It's a valid comment.

I knew the story had this shortcoming from the first. It is just a story of two young women who fall in love. That's all it ever was intended to be. But there is no obvious "conflict" which has to be dealt with. The conflict which exists is subtle. It is within the Main Character, and how she grows from who she was when the story begins, to who she is when the story ends. How - and if - she changes is the quiet tension the story brings. Not exactly your usual fantasy fare. And perhaps it doesn't really work in any genre.

All three questioned whether this was a stand-alone story or part of a larger work. This supports the "what's the point" observation. It was suggested that I expand the story, which is not an offensive prospect to me. I very much like the characters. (We only actually meet three.) And already I can see the larger story in which this "sub-plot", as it were, could exist. Whether or not I actually do that, I don't know. It's tempting. And maybe that's what Swords of Fire needs: me to take a long sabbatical. For now, though, I shall incorporate the observations made by my three colleagues last night and leave the story be. I have no idea of how, or where, I would submit it anyway. Which is a pity. I think it's an endearing story which belongs where the public can read it. Whatever.

I didn't get lost coming home. [grin]

This time I looked for the signs right off. Sure enough. In order to go west, one must first go east. How intuitive! The same goes for going east. Except it is reversed. So, in January, my moving to the west side of the freeway because I wanted to drive west was complete stupidity. I should have moved to the east side. Then I could have driven west. Ah, me. When will I learn how modern transportation design works?

Son and Spouse were both asleep when I got home. Son would have been disappointed anyway. About the last thing he said to me before I left was, "If you do go to Duluth again, bring back a souvineer." Alas. No souvineers.