Once Upon a Time

A couple of years ago I joined an online writing group that focused on a sub-specialty I was interested in. It was a big mistake. I've been a member of a really great group of writers for years and was used to the support and camaraderie I found there. This other group was nothing like that. The members spent a lot of time making sniffy noises about what great writers they were and how pathetic other writers were. Of course none of these so-called great writers ever actually wrote anything, while the writers they were putting down were actually published. It was all very annoying and I left the group after only a few weeks.

There was one member of that group, though, who was deathly serious about writing. He was painfully earnest about it, asking for critiques almost every day, revamping his stories according to the suggestions he received, then posting them again for further critique.

To give them credit, this group was very gentle with him, because what was painful about his earnestness was his incredibly bad writing. He had excellent plots, but just couldn't seem to put them down in a readable form. Even after doing several revisions his stories were horrible, the sort of stuff that you read and are hard-pressed to find something nice to say about it.

"My, you type so neatly."
"What an interesting vocabulary you have."
"You're certainly an excellent speller!"

He couldn't write to save his life.

The other day, we were at a store that has a large book section. Naturally, the preschooler dragged us over to look at the children's books. As I was browsing I picked up an interesting-looking book whose cover was dotted with bright and colorful foil insects. I opened it and read the first page.

What?

No!

Hurriedly I flipped through the rest of the story, then checked the author's name

Sure enough. It was him. The really bad writer. It was one of the stories he'd been working on while I was a member of that group. And it was wonderfully told.

Hooray for persistance and hard work!