Writing Here Alone Together

Whether or not you are a member of a writing group, consider having a WHAT group once in a while to augment your writing life. I came up with the acronym—Writing Here Alone Together—but the concept is not new. All it means is that I invited a group of writer friends to my house to sit and write. I’ve held only a few WHAT sessions at my home, but already they’ve given me a nudge to keep writing. Here’s how it all started. On Sunday mornings, my husband is a volunteer driver for elderly folks wanting to attend church services, so for those few hours our house is all mine. Since I write in a journal nearly every morning by myself, I thought it might be fun to invite a few nearby writer friends to share my quiet time and space. So, I did, and I’m glad others liked the idea, too. About eight of us are involved now: that’s the limit for my WHAT.

What we do

To an outsider, we might look as though we are students in a library. We each choose a spot in my living room, front porch, or dining room, and we sit with our heads bowed over keyboards or pens and notebooks—I prefer to write by hand in my copybook/journal. After everyone is settled, I set a timer for one hour. ONE WHOLE HOUR. No one speaks or moves from their seat, except for bathroom breaks, until the timer dings.

What we DON’T do

This get-together may be more about what we don’t do, than what we do. We don’t speak for an hour. We don’t read books. We don’t text or make phone calls. We don’t read our work aloud to each other. We don’t critique one another’s work. We don’t give out assignments. I don’t set a date for our next meeting—it’s not a regular thing. We don’t make excuses for why we didn’t come last time or feel guilty about it. (I hope not!)

Timers help

I got in the habit of setting a timer for 45 minutes per regular session when I was working on my book, Undertow. All I did was think, write, and rewrite. Focus, focus, focus. When I heard the timer ding, I got up from my chair, stretched, did a few shoulder rolls, and walked up and down the hallway. For the WHAT group, though, I set the timer for a full hour. It flies by.

Personal accountability

At WHAT, each of us practices what I view as answering to ourselves. In the end, writers must face the music (the writing) alone anyway. That’s how I see it. During WHAT, we are independent writer-bees simply buzzing in the same space and good vibes, concentrating on our own material. Intense energy, imagination, and dedication, along with love, patience, and intentionality, thrive under this roof for that brief time. To me, it is a gift like no other.

After the hour

We come up for air like scuba divers rejoining life on the surface. As we begin to talk, some speak in whispers, perhaps timid about breaking the silence, or wanting to hold on to it. Soon, we’ll be standing around my knotty-pine kitchen munching bagels, drinking coffee, and sharing whatever is on our minds. I prefer not to discuss the piece I’m working on, but others freely share whatever they want.

What good is this?

Writing together offers support. We’re in it together. We each have intimate knowledge of the joys and challenges of the process—that creates a bond. Some have said being in a different space than one’s own home or office is a refreshing change, that they are not tempted to get up and do stuff around the house, like put in the laundry or check email. My hope is that writing in an environment unlike the one we’re used to, may make new patterns in our brains, new neural pathways that prompt different ways to invigorate our work.

So W.H.A.T.?  Try it. You might like it.