I’ve been mulling these thoughts over in my head as I’ve temporarily halted and cleaned up reno demo in order to have family in for Thanksgiving. They’re thoughts I’ve held for a long time, but now seems the time to air them.
One of the difficulties of being part of a writers group is how to attract the ‘right’ kinds of people. (I purposely made that sound horrible, but keeping people out based on personal attractiveness or social status is not what I’m referring to.) Basically, you want to bring in newcomers who feel comfortable working with your existing group. It’s not so much about exact traits or even talent as it is about attitude.
Our group does not discriminate for age, creed, talent, genre, or even level of writing skill. We take in all level and genre of writers, including some who are hobbyists. We look for two main abilities: the ability to share frankly but with kindness and the drive to take writing seriously and work at it. Finding people with these traits can be tricky. New writers especially are unaware of how things work in the publishing world, and so learning about deadlines and guidelines alone can be a handful. New writers are often taken by surprise at the news that being a literary artist has rules. Some are very resistant to the idea. That can make them seem like they’re not candidates for our group. It all depends on whether or not they have enough passion for their writing to adapt.
It may seem strange that I’m referring to deadlines and guidelines, but that is my litmus test for writers. Even nonprofessionals must deal with them sometimes, for instance, if the group puts out an anthology. Critiques often have deadlines, and if we are honest about improving our writing, we must consider not only grammar but the fact that there are guidelines for every publication, and the quickest way to not be published is to ignore them. Most writers, at some point, want to be published. If you believe you never will care about publishing or whether or not your piece could find it’s niche, then that’s okay; write on happily, but you may not want to be part of our group.
The kind of writer I—and members of our group—look upon most warily is the one who insists that whatever they want to do is all right.
“It’s the art that is important. Surely”, they say, “magazines don’t care if a manuscript is submitted in longhand. And after all, it’s the editor’s job to fix all those pesky little commas and quote marks and fragments and—what do you call them?— run-on sentences, right?”
This is the person who believes their message is so important that nothing must stop it from being shared, including the effort to make it readable. This is the person who spends more time telling the group about the verse they had published in their Scrapbooking or Fishing newsletter, or how their family loved their version of The Night Before Christmas and set them up with a reading at their family reunion, where everyone called out “Author! Author!” This is the person who argues with the critiques members provide them, but can’t be bothered to read others’ work or comment on them (unless to completely upend how they are written). These are also the writers most prone to run out to have “J.B. Prunella, AUTHOR” business cards printed up (a thousand, please) before they’ve completed a single manuscript.
These people are less interested in writing, than in being a Writer. They are poseurs.
Poseur? A poseur is some one who pretends to be what he is not—usually to the annoyance of those around him, and certainly to the detriment of others who actually are what he pretends to be. Merriam-Webster specifically defines ‘poseur’ as”a person who pretends to be what he or she is not : an affected or insincere person.”
Oh. You mean a poser.
Mmmnnn, I prefer the French version of the word, which is also used in English.
Why? What's the difference ?
The French word has an additional meaning the English word does not. That bit about an affected or insincere person. It’s putting on airs about being what you really aren’t that aggravates the situation. Bad enough to call yourself a writer when you won’t put in the effort without self-aggrandizing to boot.
Honestly, we all know people who are far more interested in the kudos for a job than in doing the job.
The handyman who claims to be a contractor when he’s not even a great handyman.
The vocalist who shows up at an audition unprepared (“I never practice; I’ve a God-given gift”) then claims the only reason she blew the audition was because they couldn’t appreciate her talent.
The politicians who are much more interested in showing off the power they wield and raking in compliments and cash than in serving the constituents who chose them to serve. Especially when the politicians don’t actually know what they are doing. While we need representation from all walks of life, when a person enters the political arena to represent and serve the people, they better know HOW to do it and be ready to put in the work.
But back to the writer who keeps citing their one published article from a regional magazine that folded after six months with no issue over 30 pages long or the writer who simply refuses meeting the ordinary procedures and deadlines writing and publishing require. If you want your group to succeed and really support writers honing their craft, if you want to accomplish things as individuals or a group, if you are serious about growing your skills and the skills of others, you need members who are as serious as you are about those things.
How to find them:
Make your group invitation-only. Unless your group is sponsored and mandated to be open to the public, have existing members propose and invite new members—on a trial basis.
Create the trial basis around criteria your group agrees on. Does the writer have to have been published? Must they be writing for publication; writing in a particular style or genre; of a certain age?
Choose a trial period that seems fair to you for you and the potential member to decide if you want to make it a permanent membership: One meeting? Three? 6 months?
Give them a fair shot. Expose them to usual meeting practices, and invite them to participate for the meetings they are at. Talk to them about how you operate and why. Prepare them for any joint ventures or special goals the group has.
As the trial period winds down, prepare both existing and trial members for making their decision about whether or not things seem compatible.
The last step—that of announcing the decision—can be done in one of many ways, but it should always be along the lines of ‘being a good fit’ or ‘just didn’t work out’. You don’t want your group to be known for being unwelcoming or for arbitrarily closing its doors to people. Whether it is a public offer of membership at the last trial meeting or a private phone call from the leader of the group when things haven’t worked out is a decision only your own group can make. However, the objective is to build better writers in the group as a whole, so you need to be considerate about it.
The last thing a writers group needs is to get distracted by working with people who are not compatible in terms of seriousness and dedication. Trying to work with poseurs holds trials and tribulations, not the least of which is the chaos that ensues when meetings turn into endless explanations and defensive arguments.