I recently wrote about the impending demise of my writers’ group, at least in its current form. One guy was mad at another guy, and then a third guy jumped on board, and suddenly the rest of us had to pick sides. Awkward, to say the least. But I wasn’t prepared for how much this discord would affect me. I had a weight in my chest and unease in my belly not dissimilar to that feeling you get when you know you’re about to be dumped, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Dread.
Let me rewind a bit.
The backstory: Gus emailed a few members of the group the previous week, asking if we shared his view that the group’s founder, Eric, had been increasingly negative and unhelpful in his critiques. He also missed a fair amount of meetings. While I didn’t have a problem with him, others did. A few more email exchanges, and Gus and another member Jake decided to start their own group. Anyone who wanted to come was welcome. These two guys in particular have provided me with a lot of valuable feedback over the last two years, so I decided to go with them.
Gus’ and Jake’s plan was to wait until the end of our next meeting to tell Eric they were leaving, and that it was likely others would go with them. When the time came, I skedaddled out of there. I wanted no part of that conversation. I was certain Eric had no idea what was coming at him, and would probably be shocked and upset. The situation reminded me of the cruelty of middle school: one day someone is your best friend and the next, she isn’t speaking to you. And you have no idea why.
After the meeting, Gus emailed everyone to apologize for his part in the drama and to reaffirm his hope that we would join in the new group. I responded that I would, as did a couple of others.
The next morning, I received the email from Eric explaining his side of the story. It was clear that he was indeed surprised by Gus’ and Jake’s departure, and felt the need to defend himself against their assertions. The uneasy feeling in my gut deepened as he made his case for why the rest of us should remain in his group, and touted his solid track record of recruiting new members. The clincher was his comment that yes, he does often miss meetings due to his travel schedule and therefore he “would need a co-facilitator that would help me run the group, preferably Lisa, if she decides to stay.”
My stomach took another turn.
In response, I expressed my regret at having to choose a side and wished Eric well. I hadn’t instigated any of this, yet I felt terrible for abandoning him. I felt even worse when several days later, the one member who had yet to pick a side decided to stay with Eric. He couldn’t bear to be yet another person to jump ship. While I was crushed to lose him – he’s writing a great novel and I’ve always valued his critiques – I understood his decision and wondered if I shouldn’t have made the same one. But at the end of the day, I joined the group to improve my writing, not because I felt sorry for someone.
So the eight members are now five and three. I approached the first meeting of the newly formed five with some trepidation, worried that I wouldn’t be able to shake my bad feelings, that the group was now ruined for me. But then Gus said a heartfelt thanks for our support during this uncomfortable time and gave each of us a box of the loveliest macarons from his favorite bakery to show his appreciation. And I knew everything was going to be okay.