A Worship of Writers and Other Collective Nouns

photo by Joe del Tufo

Living in a remote location where any neighbors I did have were likely to be conservative, I got used to doing things solo. I am an independent person by nature. A firstborn, I like to (or have been trained to) figure stuff out on my own. When my sister first got married, she would call me up and ask me questions about how to do different things like chopping scallions--do you actually chop them or does just slicing them count? She always asked me questions I would never have thought to ask. I guess I never thought to ask them because I didn't have an older sister to call. In addition to my independent nature, we lived too far away from our idealogical center of Lancaster city to consider being in many groups. Nobody was going to drive to us, thirty minutes away, and the commitment on our part to drive an hour round trip to join any group seemed tedious at best. We made the commitment when it came to the Unitarian Universalist church, but even then, we sometimes felt like outliers--on the periphery of the membership.  We weren't what you would call joiners.

Now I am in Arden. There is a group for everything. And if there isn't a group for it, I can start one, and people will join. I asked if Wilmington had a Winter Solstice observation service anywhere. There wasn't one. So I joined forces with some formidable people, and we facilitated one.  The Buzz Ware Community Center just started Monday night painting/drawing nights. Come and paint and draw in the company of others. For some reason, the thought of painting around other people scared me a bit, and I asked if I could just go and observe. My friend Toby told me, "There is no format. Just people coming together to paint and draw." I know the premise. I went to art school. It just seems so foreign to me now to make art in the company of others. Doing things in groups is the Arden way. I like it. I really did crave this for so many years. But I find I also need alone time. Alone time is generally not a problem for a writer.

Groups. Here is my list (probably incomplete) of the groups that Mark and I have availed ourselves of since coming to Arden: Arden Sangha,  Beer Gild (not an officially sanctioned Arden Gild), Book Club (non-fiction),  Dinner Gild, Drumming circle,  Fiber Arts Club, G-Ardeners, Hiking Group, House concerts,  Misty Morning Walkers, Poetry Gild, Scholars Gild, TV Watching (group to watch Downton Abbey and Shameless), Women in the Woods, and Yoga. In addition, I am on the board of the Arden Community Recreation Community Association (ACRA). We have never before in our marriage been such social creatures. (The effect that this has had on our relationship is the topic for another day.)

I love the group dynamic, but I am still learning how to exist within it. Group work requires a level of trust. There is strength in numbers, but also a vulnerability that exists when you open yourself up to others. In a group, I have to ask myself questions. What is my role? How can I use the energy of a group to help boost my own agenda? How can I advocate for others within the group? Is this an activity that is more conducive to working with others, is it an activity that is better done by myself, or does it help to have both the solo and group experience? Sometimes group work forces us out of our own ruts and help implement changes we would be slow to make on our own. A good deal of problem solving happens in groups. That whole collective mind thing.

In the case of my book group, we noticed organic shifts starting to happen in our individual lives. Was it because of our group work? The book group consists of nine women. We just finished reading A Not So Big Life by Sarah Susanka. (Disclaimer: this group is not really a book club,  per se, but we are still trying to decide what to call ourselves.)  The group started when we all read the book The Gifts of Imperfection and completed Brene Brown's online course. The group is not centered on goals and success, but over the course of doing the work, many of our members have blossomed. Changes in careers, new ventures and studies. I cannot discount the energy of the group in all of this momentum.  We have created a powerful synergy.

Meanwhile, some of our husbands have gathered on our book club nights--the aforementioned unsanctioned beer gild. They pretend that their group is a more laid-back gathering, but I see the same dynamic changes happening with them. Other than softball or golf league, Mark has never gathered in a group of other men. It is remarkable what having that arena for male bonding has done for him.  He is more animated and simultaneously relaxed at home. He has places to go with his ideas. Feedback from people who aren't his wife. It is a revelation for him. Women are generally more social creatures.  We are used to talking to other women in a casual setting. It is more unusual for men. Think about it. The collective noun for women is a gaggle.  The word may as well be Yappity-yap-yap-yap. The collective noun for men is a band. It just sounds stoic.

So what other groups would I be interested in? I am slowly coming around to the fact that I might like a small selective group of writer friends to bounce ideas off of. Writing is where I am most vulnerable, so a group would be big step for me. I am beginning to trust in the synergy of groups. If I could get the right people in place and build a level of artistic trust I can see how a group might help me elevate my writing. And I know I could contribute insights of my own to others. A gathering of writers is called "A Worship." That in itself is reason enough to start such a group.

Writing in Arden

My writing desk in Arden

Here is where I cop to some truths. I have no work to show for my time in Arden--twenty months, as of this writing. It isn't that I haven't been working; I have. But this has been a challenging time for me creatively. I've heard it said that stressed vines make good wine. If a vine is too lazy or comfortable it won't put its energy into producing fruit. However, if a vine experiences partial drought, the roots will send a signal to the plant to hold back on the leaf production and put more energy into its fruit.

Is that what is happening here? Am I little too happy, too complacent--artistically speaking? Or maybe it is that I am just getting used to the transplant. But here is the thing. I have been creating pages. No artwork to speak of, but I have been writing. Still, it feels like I am working at Penelope's pace. She was the faithful wife of Odysseus who wove a burial shroud by day and undid all her work at night. I write. I rewrite. It is frustrating and solitary work.

I finally finished my novel last July and sent it to my agent. In the intermission, waiting for her to give me her notes, I wrote another novel. A new novel in four weeks. I was very excited about it. But my agent wanted to move ahead with the first novel. I took seven pages of notes during our phone conversation. She wants the novel to have a different tone among other things. And I agree it needs something. But a different tone means the entire thing needs rewritten. I am not sure how many times this thing has been reincarnated.

I am in Arden because of my novel Summers at Blue Lake. For those who don't know the story, in February of 2008, I was the guest author at a friend's book club in Newark, DE. It was there I met Cynthia. Cynthia lives in Arden and has a guest house. One of the scenes in Summers at Blue Lake that takes place in an outdoor Shakespeare performance. Add to that the fact that my main character is an art jeweler. Cynthia knew from reading the book that I would love Arden, so she invited me to come spend the weekend in her Little House. It took over a year for Mark and me to take her up on the offer. We spent our first weekend here in May of 2009. This was pre-Facebook, so we must have kept in touch through email.

I have heard it said that Arden picks you, not the other way around. Our story is such that you cannot dismiss the role of providence. Arden has this underlying energy about it; and I do feel called to live and write here. But I have days--many of them-- when I am appealing to the great creative spirits to help me move forward with my work. It is days like those when I wish I would have told people I was a waitress when I moved in. It is wonderful when people ask about how my novel is coming along, and it is supreme torture. I want to get T-shirts printed. Don't ask about my novel. Or maybe just business cards. People genuinely care about my creative life here in a way that I haven't experienced before. Maybe it is time to get a writers' group together. To trust in this creative community that has  called me hither.