Making Connections in Writing

Making Connections in Writing

‘No man is an island,’ wrote John Donne. No woman writer is either, though it can certainly feel like it sometimes, after hours, days, weeks spent hunched over a work in progress. Not so much during the writing, perhaps, when you’re immersed in the world of the story, surrounded by characters, but eventually you have to come up for air, break the surface, and that’s when you find yourself alone. Whatever you’re writing, however often you write, whoever you’re writing it for, it’s good to have someone to share your thoughts with, your questions, your anxieties. What do you think of the characters? Did the story sag in the middle? Does this title work? What did you think of the ending? Other writers know how it feels. How do you find people to share all this with – people you can trust to be honest, yet who will go gently with your work?

I’ve been writing for a long time, but the moment I started to get serious about it was when I was invited to apply for a Creative Writing MA. When our cohort met for the first time at an awkward social mixer, that’s when I began to make connections with other writers. We were all in the same strange little boat on the same unknown waters; exploring short stories and the novel, trying to put our learning into practice in our own writing. 

When the course ended I missed that camaraderie and found a writers’ group online, a place where I could continue to be in that writerly space with others, and maybe have some feedback on my work – but it soon began to feel as though I was no longer in a boat – I was in the water, and I was struggling. During the MA when we’d shared work the feedback sessions had been scary but useful. The course director was on hand to steer the conversations and though the comments weren’t always easy to hear they came from a place of empathy – after all, we were all in it together.

In the online group it wasn’t like that. I didn’t really know any of the other people. I didn’t know what was behind their remarks – and some of the critiques felt genuinely hurtful. I wasn’t yet confident enough in my own writing to ignore the suggestions that weren’t helpful. My faith in my work started to erode. It was a hard lesson to learn; that not all groups are going to be good for you.

Rescue came in the form of a new friend I’d met on a writing retreat. She was part of a private Facebook group of established writers, it was a safe space – was I interested in joining? I grabbed at the lifebuoy and hung on tight. 

I had found my tribe. Years later and I’m so grateful to be part of this generous and supportive group – we’re there for each other’s highs and lows, from plot advice to being picked up after yet another rejection. We all know what it feels like. And when somebody has something to celebrate it’s heartfelt. 

I’m not part of a critique group, though I’m lucky enough to have a small number of trusted writing friends and we share work from time to time. And then there are my writing mentors – experienced writers who I can go to with a draft, or part of a draft, who can see exactly what my writing needs and how to get there. 

Although COVID has put paid to face-to-face teaching over the past couple of years I am hopeful that the weekly writing group I teach will be back to normal soon. It keeps me on my toes: planning writing prompts, discussing novel extracts, exploring different genres, craft and techniques… the buzz of creativity feels magical, and that same energy feeds back into my own writing.  

Most recently I’ve joined an online group for debut authors (my novel, Hive, was published at the end of January). Though we’re a diverse bunch in all sorts of ways there is an all-in-the-same-boat feeling again, like back in the MA days. The conversation rolls on almost 24/7 and not long after the night owls clock out the larks clock in and catch up with the chat from the night before. I feel a real sense of community here – launching my book out into the world has been incredible, and it’s been a dream of mine for such a long time – but the process has its own stresses and I’m glad not to have done it alone.

And, of course, there’s Twitter. I’ll admit that I was a bit of a reluctant joiner, but I thought it would be a good way to meet some more fellow readers and writers. I lurked around the edges for a bit, but eventually I plucked up the courage to connect with the #WritingCommunity, and the more I take part the more I get back. Now I’m dipping my toe into Instagram – wish me luck!

Thank you, womenwriters, for asking me to write this piece, it’s really the first time I’ve stopped to think about the wonderfully rich network of writing friends and colleagues I’m part of – many of whom I’ve never met in real life, but the relationships feel just as strong.

April Doyle’s debut novel, Hive, is published by The Book Guild (ISBN: 978-1913913779)

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HIVE

Near-future Britain. Climate change has led to food shortages and civil unrest. Pollinating insects are in steep decline. Commercial bee farmer Victor Martin travels around the farms of Kent with his hives to pollinate fruit trees and crops. Local research entomologist Dr Annie Abrams is devastated when she’s ordered to give up her captive bee colonies – her life’s work – to join forces with Victor and ensure a harvest. But the bees are dying. Their only hope seems to be an experimental alternative to insect pollination: robot pollinators called nanodrones. But why does the drone designer seem so familiar? And who is behind the shadowy organisation intent on sabotaging their vital work? Can Annie and Victor win their battle to save the bees… or is it too late?

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Tags: featured, women writers

Category: On Writing