Writing Communities In the Digital Age

I’ve been thinking about the magic of critique groups and wondering how it translates into the digital forum. I’m in two groups at the moment – one that meets live and in-person at a cozy neighborhood coffee shop once a week and the other born from a face-to-face workshop experience that is trying to recapture that energy through a monthly, digital exchange. The live, in-person energy is so powerful and digital communication is such a different realm. I wonder if the give-and-take, push–and-pull exploratory exchange and support of the in-person critique group can actually transfer to a digital format?

Our digital group has gotten off to a terrific start, but I think I need to learn how to critique and share ideas more effectively in that forum. I miss the capacity to write comments directly onto the page and interact physically with the printed word of another author. I miss the ideas that are born from the free-flowing conversation. I question whether I’m providing the proper nuance to my words that will allow another author to hear what I say without the unintentional sting criticism can sometimes carry. I wonder if my own responses are too much, too little, or seem defensive when they’re not meant to. There is an art to giving criticism that is honest and useful while also being supportive and encouraging. There is an art to hearing and receiving criticism of your “baby.”

What strategies have you used to translate the face-to-face critique experience into the digital world? What challenges have you faced? How have you overcome them? Are there ways in which you prefer the digital writing community to a live writing community?

This is a post from the Writer’s Wavelength blog which can be found at writerswavelength.blogspot.com.

Fearless Revision

“What if I rewrite the whole thing in first person?”
“What if I cut this chapter entirely?”
“What if death is the narrator?”
“What if there are 4 different narrators?”
“What if I write it as a blog?”
“What if she turns into a hippo instead of a moose?”

There was a time when I revised like an ancient, nearsighted clockmaker, turning over every word and phrase, tinkering with the minutest mechanism, making miserly revisions as if each change cost me and each letter was crafted from grains of diamond dust. I love treating words with so much affection and care, but I’m thankful that I have finally developed the courage to make more fearless revisions, skydiving, bungee-jumping revisions, the kind of revisions that change the entire landscape of a manuscript.

My whole critique group seems to have entered this phase of development together, which makes it ten times more exhilarating. When one of us announces, “I think I’m going to cut that whole section and move the important parts here instead,” we cheer, we exult. It feels like we’ve all gone cliff-diving together.

Perhaps the support and safety of this long-term critique group has given me the foundation of confidence to take those plot-shattering leaps. Or maybe this liberation comes with writing novel-length pieces. Perhaps it’s a function of exposing myself, over a period of time, to multiple critiques. Or maybe being in the habit of writing has made the words less scarce and therefore less precious, the process less like mining gold and more like cultivating a garden.

What is the most fearless, radical change you’ve ever made in a piece of your own writing? How did it affect the story?

If you’ve found yourself saying, “What if I ….?” or “I wonder what would happen if ….” then I challenge you to grab the hands of some fellow writers and take that vigorous plunge! What have you got to lose?

This is a post from the Writer’s Wavelength blog which can be found at writerswavelength.blogspot.com.