I made this video in 2016. I was living in Paris and participated in a writer’s group. It was open to all, and met in a book-lined corner upstairs at Shakespeare & Co. every Sunday late afternoon.
Large groups are often unwieldy but this one operated smoothly, thanks to a few community leaders and the auspices of the bookshop, as finding a free and quiet place to gather for a few hours is difficult, especially in an expensive city. The store is right on the Seine, opposite Notre Dame, whose bells would occasionally interrupt our proceedings.
Groups have their own rules. In this case, writers had to print out many copies of whatever they wished to have read; for each contributor, another person volunteered or was chosen to read their work aloud, while everyone else read along; followed by comments. Each person enjoyed about 15 minutes of attention. This worked for snippets, two or three pages of text, or a poem. We could get through 10, even 15 submissions each week. Inevitably a few didn’t make it some days, but they’d get first dibs the following week.
The day’s moderator had to be skillful to keep time, ensure a lively but respectful discussion, and ensure the session was fair and constructive.
Attendees – there were many regulars, but no formal structure – were of all types, from many nations (although the language was English), and of varying degrees of experience and skill. I still remember a few who presented gorgeous, challenging work. And even a few failures that were nonetheless interesting.
While you had to prep to get a reading (ie, show up with about 20 or more printed copies), the room was open. Tourists browsing the store would often hang out and watch or listen, and sometimes they screwed up the courage to contribute an opinion. This felt very cool.
This being a bunch of writers in Paris where things close on Sundays, there was always someone in a foul mood because they couldn’t find a Kinko’s or other store to print their work in time. I liked that sense that even a bustling city like Paris will insist on a day of rest.
It was all very analog. Even then, I had no desire to attempt a writer’s group online. Four years later, we’d all get an introduction to Zoom, but I haven’t changed my mind. The point is to be analog; present; in person.
Ah, but what about ChatGPT, you say? I’ve experimented with using genAI to get feedback on my work. It always comes out bland and often missing the point. I had hoped it might throw up some surprising ideas, but so far, it’s just been a waste of time. If your goal is mediocrity, sure, stick with the LLMs. There’s no substitute for the nuance, honesty, and creativity that your fellow writers, concentrating on your work, can bring to a critique.
Some writer’s groups are duds. One toxic person, kaboom. It takes a little trial and error to find people who click, but the best sign is when everyone takes the writing seriously but not themselves.
The Paris group worked despite its large crowd, but it could only provide an opinion on a tiny slice of a novel in progress. I used my time to present the bits I was least sure of. I got a sex scene approved, that was useful.
For a more comprehensive review of a novel requires a different setup. I’ve been lucky to be part of two constructive groups that could tackle things in chapter size. I’ve also been in a few such groups that were duds. Personalities matter, but it also needs a structure. Rules matter too.
One of my two good experiences was also in Paris, an invitation-only group for more serious and accomplished writers. The Sunday gig at Shakespeare, and a Friday night open-mic at Au Chat Noir, a dive bar in the eleventh arrondissement, provided a chance to show your stuff and access the more private group. It met Wednesday nights at someone’s very boho flat, and the hostess put on a lovely spread. Write sober, edit drunk, I say.
A year or so after I left Paris, the management at Shakespeare & Co. kicked the writers out. I always thought this was petty and stupid. It created a crisis, because bookshops were going out of business and there weren’t obvious venues to go. But the group is resilient. I see they have reconstituted themselves as “AWOL Writers: The Invisible Paris Workshop”. If you are visiting Paris or spending time there, look them up - I’d suggest you start with their Facebook page.
My video is therefore an exercise in nostalgia but the message is timeless, and the advice from my friends for participating in a writer’s group is universal. I hope you enjoy this…and if you’re not with an analog group, the best thing about the digital world is that it makes it easy to find likeminded people in your community. Create your own group!
