Create your own writing group

Here are the simple steps to creating the container that sparks the magic. Start with as few as two or as many as you can happily squish into your living room or onto your Zoom screen.

  • This can be anything: each person saying a word about how they are; speaking one word into the space; setting individual and/or collective intentions, lighting a candle.

    I like to do the grounding visualization, but set a ritual that works for your group.

    Grounding visualization

    One person can walk the group through this, or something like this.

    As much as possible, simply notice what is happening, versus forcing anything.

    • Feel your feet on the ground, your butt in the chair, gravity holding you in place. Deepen your connection to the earth by extending roots, and notice where they go—down deep, more wide & shallow? Notice the feeling of being held by the earth, and the nourishment available from it.

    • Notice your spine: the center around which your life swirls. 

    • Notice the energy extending above, below, to each side, front and back. How far does that extend, and where is your edge / bubble? This is your space. Allow your breath / life force to flow all the way to the edge. 

    • Notice what is in this space between your spine and your edge—thoughts, sensations, images—that isn't yours. Release it down into the ground, or let it dissolve or float away. No need to name it or even know what it is. Just let it drop away. 

    • Bring your attention to the crown of your head. From there, send a little signal flare out to the ethers, the void, the place of all that is unborn / unmanifest, and invite whatever wants to be written through you today to start making its way to your clean, grounded, protected space.

    • Feel yourself held by the shared space and interconnected hearts of the group. Whenever you are ready, open your eyes and return to the circle.

  • It might be a poem, a song, a passage, even a piece of visual art to connect you more deeply with your own artistry. If the ritual is to set up the canvas, this is to apply a coat of gesso, readying the space for what's to come. Let the group decide who is bringing the ‘starter material’ each week.

  • Designate someone the timekeeper and decide how long everyone will write for. I find 8 minutes to be particularly magical, as well as 3. I have yet to explain why.

    Someone offers a prompt: a word, phrase or sentence to serve as the way in to your writing.

    Maybe the prompt occurs to you a few days ahead of time, or even in the moment before you offer it. If you’re stuck, here are a few ideas for sourcing prompts.

    • Open a book, turn to page 46, put your finger on the page. Wherever it lands is your prompt.

    • A snippet of conversation you overhear or something you hear yourself saying

    • A song lyric that’s been in your head

    • A visual prompt—a tarot card, piece of art, something in the room or the landscape

    • A line from the poem or passage that opened the group

  • Once you hear the prompt, write it at the top of the page and then write whatever follows that, and whatever follows that. As much as possible, let the piece flow through you. 

    No need to respond literally to the prompt. For instance, if the prompt is “my best memory,” don’t sit there trying to conjure the best day of your life. Maybe you write something like my best memory is tomorrow with Sam or my best memory left me when I turned 56.

    Once you’re flowing, don’t stop to think, cross out, edit, second guess. These are all inner critic maneuvers, and we’re writing around the critic. 

    If you do get stuck, write the prompt again—My best memory is this morning’s coffee. Too much cream and not enough sugar. My best memory is being born. I almost drowned in the inflatable pool. And so forth. 

    You can also ignore the prompt altogether and write whatever is knocking at the door to come through. Don't fight what's already here.

    Keep going until time is up. Maybe the timekeeper has a chime, or just a gentle vocal invitation to bring the piece to a close.

  • Take turns reading your pieces. Read loudly, slowly and clearly to honor your work (and so the group can hear and follow you).

    Don’t qualify your piece before you start reading, e.g. “Oh god, this is so dark, I don’t know where this came from, this is crap…” Don't let the critic sneak in there. Just begin. 

  • Listen to the reader’s piece with your heart, your body, and a little bit with your brain. Let it wash over you and notice where you’re moved, what sticks, what you can relate to, what you were wowed by.

    Take notes if you want to, though most people find it hard to write things down and listen simultaneously, especially at first. Err on the side of just listening, and experiment with taking notes if it’s supportive. 

  • What moved you, stuck with you, wowed you? What could you relate to? Tell the person this, even if it's the exact same thing as someone else just said. Repetition helps get past the wall the inner critic puts up. It can also help us notice what’s powerful about our voice if multiple people are pointing to the same thing.

    Also, jump right in with your feedback, even if it's just a sound, a gesture, a big "wow." Too long a silence leaves room for the reader's critic to say, "see? I told you it was shit." Don't wait. Don't be polite. Talk over each other. Gush.

  • Take turns until everyone has read. Everyone. No passing unless what you’ve written feels too personal, emotional, or triggering. Trust your gut, but also, trust the space you and your group have created, and know whatever comes through you will be met and held in love.