I mentioned in the Pandemic Blues blog that my passion for writing stopped while I was living in Texas. There were times where my writing would come back and then I would abruptly stop. In 2006, I had moved to a new apartment in Southwest Houston. It was the first time I was living on my own and I remember it was a very lonely period in my life. I had no family in Texas and most of my friends were through my ex-girlfriend or co-workers. I was still communicating with my ex-girlfriend and we kept tabs on each other for a few years until I moved to Washington D.C. She had always suggested I get back into writing and suggested using Meetup.com to meet with a writing group. After procrastinating, I went on Meetup.com and met with a writing group that focused on poetry. The organizer of the writing group didn’t live too far from me and I was curious to see what this writing group was going to be like.
When I first moved to Houston, my ex-girlfriend got into the Creative Writing program at the University of Houston. Meeting the professors and other student writer was intimidating. I felt outmatched and didn’t understand why. Now, I realize I didn’t have the life experience and dedication to the craft as those students. Most of the students in her class were older and seemed to have had lived in independence for some time before being accepted to the program. I wasn’t ready for the program in 2004. Fast forward to the meet up group, I met John, the organizer, in the summer of 2006. John was a blue collar worker who had retired and was looking to start a writing group that focused mainly on poetry. He had the meet up at his home and introduced me to his pets. His dog was named, Mr. Dog, and his cat was named, Mrs. Cat. lol. I am not making that up. I thought it was interesting that he hadn’t given them a nickname or just a name outside of Mr. Dog or Mrs. Cat. John was very direct and had taken a poetry class prior to starting the meet up. John had confessed to me and the group that for the first time in his life, he was embracing his creativity and wanted to explore poetry. I thought it was admirable and I connected to John because I wanted to regain my lost creativity. There were three other people who jointed the group. There was another gentleman from Miami who wanted to write again and was okay with doing poetry as a medium. He had written poetry but never shared with a writing group. There was a woman who was a fan of Rumi and wanted to express her poetry to a group. There was another young guy around my age and had wanted to give poetry a try.
In the first meet up, we introduced each other and then we gave copies of our first poem to workshop to the group. Outside of that, I don’t remember much of our first meeting outside of feeling good afterwards. I remember looking forward to writing something new for the next meet up and for the first time, felt empowered to speak up with this group. I am not sure if it was because I didn’t feel intimidated with them or that this meeting felt less structured than your typical college writing workshop where the professor dictated the rules and regulations. I kid about the regulations, but I do remember one poetry professor getting angry at a student for writing poetry in essay form with paragraphs. I remember she flat out told him, we weren’t reading his work because of his formatting. I digress. I started to get to know everyone in the group and I remember John loved to do rhymes in his poetry. Although it was forced and a basic rhyme structure, it did make me want to incorporate some rhyming structure to my poetry. The guy from Miami loved to do poetry that was based on settings and the feel of being by the beach. The lady who loved Rumi was good at performing her poetry. We did have a discussion on how her performance was great but it didn’t translate on paper. She seemed annoyed with my criticism. I don’t remember much of the other guy who was in the class but he seemed pretty cool. We spent the rest of the summer meeting at John’s house. We all took turns in bringing snacks and even found snacks for Mr. Dog and Mrs. Cat.
Everything was pretty cool until the Fall of 2006. A new member showed up to a meet up in late September. She seemed very friendly when we introduced ourselves to her and seemed very motivated to share her work with us. We began our workshop as usual, passed around the snacks, and then things went downhill really fast. I believe we were workshopping John’s new poem. I believe it was the Rumi lady that said, “Oh John, I would totally steal the line.” and shared with the group how much she loved it. We all understood what that meant except for the new lady, whom I’ll call, Lady X. I remember everyone was impressed with John’s improvement until Lady X raised her hand and said something that shook the group. She said, “Well I hope you wouldn’t steal his line! I don’t think that’s right at all.” Rumi lady clarified what she meant by “stealing the line” meant. I also defended her and stated it was a good line, nobody was actually stealing her line. Lady X seemed to calm down after that. Once we got to Lady X’s turn, she read her first poem, and we all took turns criticizing her work. I remember it being constructive criticism. Lady X took it personal. Lady X started to be defiant and stated that she didn’t feel comfortable sharing her work with her group. She then went on to let us know that if anyone “stole” her work or lines, would be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. She then told us that she was a “published” poet and took out a certificate from Poetry.com. I wanted to laugh at that moment. She was so serious about her published work. I then told her, “You know, you have to pay to publish your own work on Poetry.com right?” She was insulted by remark. I then started telling her that anyone can call themselves a published poet by paying for it. She then began to insult the rest of the group and said she didn’t feel comfortable with the group. She felt attacked and immediately left the house. We were all in shock. Her tirade lasted about 10-15 minutes. The rest of the group were shocked by everything that had happened and how it escalated quickly. We all left that John’s house that night and none of us thought this would be the last time we would ever see each other. The next day Lady X had emailed the group repeating the same sentiments from the house. John tried to diffuse the situation and unfortunately that enraged her more. As a group, we were shocked and thought she would have stopped but she continued.
John decided to stop the meet up. He didn’t feel comfortable meeting at his home and Lady X seemed to point her vitriol at John. I always wondered if she thought John was me because John never said anything to her in the house but who knows. Nobody stepped up to take over and I didn’t either. I could have looked at meeting rooms in libraries near me but I never got proactive. It all stopped with Lady X. Looking back, I feel sad that we never continued. I did invite John to my 27th birthday party. I had a kickball themed party. Very much like a Texan, John came to my birthday ready to play and made sure to bring his 6 pack. He didn’t mind playing kickball with people twenty years younger than him. He was the last person from that group that I saw after that. 14 years later, I sometimes wonder if things would have continued had Lady X not showed up or if I stepped up to take over. I wonder if it have jumpstarted me to writing again. For that brief period, I remember feeling the joy of writing and not feeling alone.
Seeking Balance While Laughing Out Loud 