The Usual Suspects

If you’ve never been to one of our meetings, here’s roughly how it goes. A group of us — some published, some working towards it, some just there because they enjoy the company of people who understand why you’d stop a perfectly good conversation to write down a sentence that’s just occurred to you — gather, share work, swap notes, and generally encourage each other not to give up.

That last part matters more than people realise. Writing is, on the whole, a solitary business. You sit on your own with your Muse (mine is particularly demanding, as longstanding readers will know), and you wrestle a story into existence, and nobody else sees any of it until it’s done. The Wordsmiths meetings are the antidote to that. A reminder that you’re not the only person quietly losing sleep over whether a sentence works.

What Came Up This Time

This Thursday brought the usual mix — some pieces in early, exciting, slightly chaotic draft form, and others much further along, being polished for one of our collections, yet others have been ‘revived’ from the back of some drawer and dusted off. There’s always a moment in these meetings where someone reads something out, and the room goes quiet in the right way, the way that means it’s made an impact. That happened more than once this time, which is always a good sign.

There was also, inevitably, a fair bit of the kind of conversation that only makes sense to other writers: on previous occasions, there have been debates about whether a particular character would really say or do that, whether a twist was earned or just convenient, whether a phrase is being expected to do too much work and carry too much meaning. Someone mentioned my use of the phrase ‘the leavings of a werewolf’s bowels’, causing laughter. Don’t ask.

Occasionally, we will be challenged to write for 10 or maybe 20 minutes and then read out the insanity we have created. It can be funny, tragic, sad, crazy, or all of the above. It doesn't really matter because we have all been allowed to exercise our creativity and encourage each other.

Why I Keep Turning Up

I’ve been doing this for a while now, and I could, in theory, just write on my own and never show up to another Thursday lunchtime in my life. The Muse doesn’t need an audience to keep talking to me; she’s quite content doing that at 2 am, uninvited, regardless of who’s in the room.

But there’s something about being around other Wordsmiths that sharpens the work. You hear how a piece lands on someone who isn’t you, who hasn’t spent six months living inside it. You get asked the awkward question you’d been quietly avoiding asking yourself. And, every so often, you get to be the person asking that question for someone else, which is its own kind of satisfying.

And you get to wonder at the imaginations of people who are ‘old enough to be set in their ways’ or are expected to spend their time gardening. Of course, people do reminisce, but the stories are told in a way that is exciting, sensual, and funny (I’m looking at you, Jane) or have interesting twists (that’s both of you Vals).

Plus, frankly, it’s nice to spend a couple of hours with people who don’t think it’s remotely strange that I’ve written 2.2 million words and counting. Try explaining that number to someone outside this world and watch their face.

Until Next Time

Another Wordsmiths Thursday done, then. Work shared, notes taken, the Muse presumably taking mental notes of her own for what she’s going to spring on me next. I’ll be back next time, and if you’re anywhere near Whittlesey and fancy seeing what a room full of slightly mad, very dedicated writers looks like, you’d be very welcome to come and find out.

Just be warned…