Friday, 18 January 2019

PREDATOR AND PREY


PREDATOR AND PREY

She hung up on me.  I don’t understand.  She was the one who phoned me.  Four o’clock in the afternoon.  A stranger I don’t even know, and she hung up on me.

When I answered the phone, she said her name was Ann and she was calling about the writing group she had seen mentioned in the paper.

Eagerly, I said, “Yes, what would you like to know?”

“How many members do you have?” she queried.

            I told her we can have anywhere from four to twelve people attending any of our weekly meetings.

            “So who leads your group?” she wanted to know.

            “We don’t really have a leader.  We’re all equals,” I told her.

            “What is your format for meetings?  Do you read?  Do you critique?” she asked imperatively.

            “We all read, either our own work or something about writing.  If we critique after a reading, it’s what we call a soft critique.  If anybody wants an in-depth critique, we ask they provide a hard copy of their work and we will work on it and bring it back at a later date,” I explained.

            “You mean you can’t critique just from a reading?  I ask because I teach creative writing and if you know how to listen properly you can critique a reading,” she said with disdain.

            “But that might not be fair to the writer,” I said.  “How can you give a comprehensive critique when you only hear maybe one chapter or part of a chapter?” I asked.

            “Don’t you people want to learn anything.  Don’t you want somebody to tell you what’s wrong with your work?  Or do you just want others to say how nice your writing is?” she demanded in her strident voice.

            “We all want to learn.  But this is mainly a support group. It’s not a class with a teacher.  We like our informal setting. And there is a very fine line between critiquing and stifling creative expression,” I defended.

            “Thank you,” she responded with impatience in her voice.

            And then I heard it.  That click as the line went dead.  She hung up on me. I stared at the phone in my hand, waiting for indignation to assault me, but it didn’t.  I only felt relief that I had escaped her witch’s talons.  Then I started to cackle as I pulled out my pen and wrote this down.

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By Lisa A. Hatton

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