This week on National Writing Day, the Writing Bedfordshire group came together for the first time at the fantastic Brown Books bookshop, currently being hosted by Luton Literature CIC at the headquarters of 33 at 77, a home for the charity that ran the legendary 33 Arts Centre in Luton. The founding members of that arts centre are currently archiving the history and impact of the arts centre in the community in Luton, and in doing so they are also curating a way of creative practice for us to all take forward in our work – one of collaboration, of sharing skills, and of mutual support. I knew I wanted our first meeting to be in that space, because that’s what I hope this group will grow into.
Applications for the group were open in May, and I had a great response from people. Everybody who applied was a fantastic writer, and it was a genuine pleasure to read everybody’s work (I’m working through some more formal feedback for people who applied, as the quality was too high to not acknowledge and thank in some way.) The final writers were chosen in the end around factors of availability, of wider skills and backgrounds, and of balance in the group. However, you can never know how things will work out until you have a group in the same space. I’ve been putting together creative cohorts in a range of environments for around fifteen years, firstly as a theatre director, then later on as an artistic development worker and venue programmer, so I have some years of experience, but you never quite know how a group will be until you all come together.
I won’t be talking here about who is in the room without their express permission later in the process, and therefore I won’t be giving out any identifying information, but there were factors in all of the final people chosen that I sought to balance. Two were coming to prose from more formal academic writing. Others were coming to writing from other creative practices, or were bringing other practice to text. Half are employed part time or on flexible contracts, half work full time. Half are parents and half are childfree. Two others, like me, have been or are in receipt of funding from ACE’s DYCP programme, with others having won other prizes and bursaries. Two are part of significant literary events in Bedfordshire. Two have done formal MA’s in Creative Writing. Half of the people in the in the room have come to the county, some as recently as a few years ago, and the other half have left and come back again. Everybody had something to say about the process of being able to say ‘I am a writer.’
There were so many fantastic things in the group that both allowed for connection and shared experience, and also the opportunity to work with people who approach language, plot, and prose in a completely different way. It allowed us to identify three key things that we want to get out of working together:
- Challenge. We want to be able to be pushed, in a supportive environment, to achieve new things. This comes from being with people with different skills, different backgrounds, different interests, yet similar goals.
- Critique. We want to know more about our writing, and to bring ourselves as both experts and learners to other people’s work. We want to bring all of ourselves to both what we give and take.
- Community. Writing is lonely. It doesn’t have to be.
On the final point, we spoke about a range of experiences. For some, they had networks pre-pandemic that had altered due to changes of circumstances or location. Some of us had treasured online writing groups, but missed out on some of the more informal support that can come from being close to your peers, like a quick cup of coffee when you’re spiralling over a sentence, or the comfort of being able to speak at speed across each other. Some of us who were new to seeing writing as a formal craft needed new networks, others of us with old networks needed new faces. What we all agreed on was that the sense of belonging and support was of equal weighting to the other things.
When I applied for the DYCP, I knew that this belonging was something I desperately wanted to address as part of my developing practice. Not being based in a city can feel like you are out on a branch away from the trunk, one that the wind could knock you from at any moment. After just one meeting, I can already feel the roots beneath my feet, and I’m excited to get to know these writers over the coming six months and, hopefully, grow with them for many more years to come.
Rae Leaver Rahman 