Writing Group: Attempt #2

I arrive home from my second go at the writing group which meets every 2 weeks. I open the door and announce to Nigel, "my writing group turned into a fiasco tonight!" The first gathering had given me the impression the whole group was conjured up for asylum seekers as most of the attendees were those hoping to work with them. This didn't leave me with the most welcoming feeling, but I was determined to ride it out. The second meeting I am interested to see that most of the refugee workers have not come back. There are new faces, a few from different European countries, and a few familiar faces. The writer leading the group this week is also new. About half an hour late a "refugee" arrives. Many turn and I can feel the excitement as various individual expectations begin to be met. I drop my head in embarrassment at any sign of unnaturalness this man must feel entering on his own. I also eluded to there being someone in the group I might avoid. This man is back, an older gentleman, who can talk the ear of anyone who makes eye contact for too long. He can hijack the entire group for endless rants. He considers himself an expert in both writing and asylum seekers. I have a sneaking suspicion he is beginning to lose his mind, which endears him to me beyond his endless advice. Similar to last time, he starts out during a quiet writing exercise trying to get the writing teacher to edit some previous works of his in a loud voice. She manages to give minimal input and still concentrate on what she is writing. It seems to be handled well. Once the exercise is over she asks us to share what we have read out loud going around in a circle (starting with me). I read mine and it continues until we get to the older gentleman. "Do you have anything to share?" She asks. "I have more important things to do than write about things like this," he says. We skip him and continued around the circle. The writing teacher pulls out interesting or positive details about each of our writing and expands on it. About 2 people from the end he pipes up again and tells us that obviously he is the only one who is willing to "drop the pebble in the pond" and begins a critical rant of our work, except one. Our subject has been to write about a childhood memory or moment when we had been particularly happy. He points out that relationships are the only thing one should be writing about and that the rest is a throw away. The only one he isn't objecting to is written touchingly about a deceased brother. The rant isn't ending there. It continues on despite people protesting until one intelligent woman says, "you know what would be great? If you could take part in the exercises to illustrate what you are talking about." He doesn't bite. There is absolutely no way he will waste his time writing about useless things. Someone else suggests this is not an editing group, but a beginner and casual writing group. By this point people start talking amongst themselves, tired of the ranting. Someone jumps up and brings out tea and biscuits and I begin chatting with an interpreter from Austria who is sitting next to me. This series of photos is taken while waiting late at night at a bus stop in Sheffield. I am not aware until we are all finished and putting our jackets on that a row has broken out between this gentleman and the writing instructor. I catch the end of his shouted line, "well maybe if you had experienced the things I have..." as the writing instructor abruptly gets up and leaves with the rest of us. She mutters under her breath that it is normal to have giant egos in writing groups, but that she doesn't normally handle it in this way. I leave and wander in the cold night to the bus stop. As I wait there I think about this man and why he has come. I wonder if he is lonely and needs to be around people despite his difficult personality. If that is the case, it would really hurt him to be told not to come. If he is lonely would he recognize it in himself? He is undoubtedly a quirky personality. I like a bit of quirk and find that most people I initially avoid endear themselves to me because of that oddness. I do still wonder if his mind is going as well.