What Lies Beneath

I recently joined a writing group(as an aside, I wonder why it’s a writing “group” but book “club”).  I’ve never been a member of such a thing before, but was attracted by the idea of joining a community of similarly-motivated (or unmotivated) people.  A lot of the talk is centers around not finding time to write and patting each other on the back when we do, good or bad books we’ve read, the occasional venture into of “how things are going” and review of something someone dared bring forward.  And then we do a writing exercise.  Right (or is that “write”?) there in the bar.  At first I was dreading this.  It’s not something I normally do and part of me didn’t see the point.  But it’s great.  A one or two word prompt is given and then we’re off for five minutes or so, with everyone reading out their “work” at the end.  And it’s never an embarrassment of nothing to say.  Stuff just pours out of people and it’s good.  Sure it’s a long way from a novel or an epic poem (it is only five minutes) but it is amazing what lies beneath the surface.  Unknown until it’s called forth.

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