|an old poem-seems to fit this piece|
It was a good week, busy and exciting. I spent Tuesday evening with my grand-girls, Wednesday evening with my writing group, and like I imagine most of you, Thursday "doing" Halloween, in all its spooky, sugary goodness. Yesterday at school was certainly quieter, everyone low-key, seemed to be resting their ears from the noisiness of the holiday before. I hosted Poetry Friday yesterday, what I called the 'after party', time to slow down and savor the words. Like I said, a good week!
But I'd especially love to celebrate my writer's group today. I introduced it here. We are now seven, have been together a year, and are into a regular, once-a-month routine, have been mostly meeting at my house, but traveled further in the summer, and now are meeting at close-by homes. Four of us live close to our school. This time we met at one of our member's homes who has recently bought and renovated an old home, and most of us had not yet seen it. Wow, we loved all that they had completed! It was a marvelous mix of colors and artistic touches that made us feel comfortable immediately. As I said in an earlier post, we have ended up meeting from 4:30 to 8:30 or so. The host feeds us a variety of food, cheeses, light salads, crackers, hummus, some sweets. We eat and talk, and relax into the work. We share a few stories, and although we do see each other at work, too, this is different talk, more personal. We are becoming good friends who are beginning to know the people we are as writers.
|no pic this week-this was in July|
And someone says, time to begin, who wants to share first? And that someone does. We spend at least 30 or so minutes discussing each person's work, taking turns, returning to comment again if someone else has sparked a new thought about a word or phrase. Sometimes we are there to support, sometimes to critique. The author guides us as to what kind of response is wished, and sometimes pursue deeper into a part of a piece. We are serious and enchanted and helpful, and I'm rather sure we are grateful to have each other. Remember Nanci Atwell's dining table metaphor where she imagines students sitting around the table talking about books? I am reminded of that each time our writing group meets, of the camaraderie of a group talking, laughing, reminding, even hooting!
It's a pleasure to celebrate this group!