white noise

From September 2004 to about February of this year, I frequented Critique Circle. I was lonely for other writers or people interested in writing, but unfortunately I didn’t find anyone truly interested in friendship or sharing the trials of wanting to write for publication. I don’t think Rick writes much anymore and it makes me sad.

When I first started hanging out on the forums, the poetry forum starved for attention. Mostly, it collected a lot of cobwebs. So, I started posting … you know, to spark some conversation. I learned quickly why no one visited this particular forum. First of all, it’s open; anyone wanting to submit poetry for feedback basically needs to throw himself (or herself for all you MUST BE PCers) to the wolves.

Second, there is a man — well, I suppose he could be a woman in disguise — but, either way, he’s like this one-man creative wrecking crew. For Clayton, it’s ALL about mechanics, how-to, and any other holier-than-thou based bile one can vomit across the masses at every opportunity. I worked very hard to put him in his place or, at the very least, show people that his opinion is just that — his, and it needn’t be theirs. It took maybe 3 weeks, but finally, people were posting poetry and starting their own discussion threads. And this was despite Clayton’s best effort to run them off. I don’t understand people like him. I’d like to say I don’t understand the need for perfection, but sadly, I do. It’s numbing to the soul of the everyday artist.

The mastery of anything is so much more than just perfection.

I just checked in again tonight. Clayton is still on his rampage. His posts are all still horrifically insulting to the masses and he still has a corncob stuffed (sideways, I think!) up his nether-region. Maybe he’s just a sad person; I can’t say I really know. But, I am happy to see that most of the others treat his posts as hooptedoodle and just read on …

I don’t post to the CC forums or online for critiques anymore; having 5,000 other would-be writers telling me everything I do wrong in my writing is counterproductive. I think an intimate group of like-minded people is probably the better route for me. That, and I just want the control to weed out the goobers and knotheads that would otherwise drive me to homicide.