Gregory Gibson at Hovey House Writer’s Group

Ever since I read Gregory Gibson’s wrenching book about the death of his son, Gone Boy, I have been anticipating, with mixed feelings, his talk at our Hovey House Writer’s Group meeting last night. I have his second book, Demon of the Waters, but have not read it as yet. Somehow, as much as I admired his courage and his astonishing self-revelation and emotional rawness in Gone Boy, I wasn’t sure how I would react to his presence. I need not have worried.

Gibson and his wife Anne Marie arrived just as the sun was making the waves all gold and pink in the harbor. The view from Hovey House is so extraordinary that it’s hard to think of anything else when you first arrive. Some of the dory racers were rowing out by Ten Pound Island and all of Jane’s daffodils and tulips are in full bloom. It was going to be a good evening.

When we were gathered in the living room and had made out usual introductions, Gibson said that, though he was happy and pleased that people appreciated his first two books, as a writer he was now on to a third book and he wondered if anyone would mind if he read from that and talked about that instead of the first ones. We thought that seemed like a fine idea and he began by reading us the first chapter of his current work-in-progress. It was delicious.

I am not comfortable with talking about another writer’s WIP — suffice it to say his book is non-fiction and involves the later photographer Diane Arbus — but having this opportunity to hear another writer read from his work and encourage feedback reminded me of how both wonderful and necessary it is for writers to have the support of their fellows. I don’t know if there are writers who are capable of doing good work without the feedback of others but I would find that hard to imagine.

Having participated in a lot of writer’s groups over the years, I am acutely aware of the quality of feedback given. Some critiques are kind but useless. Some are very critical and equally useless when the criticism is non-specific (“I don’t know, I just didn’t feel anything for the characters, they just didn’t work for me” — great. Thanks.) Getting feedback from friends is usually encouraging but not always helpful either. It’s not that friends are always trying to be nice and supportive, it’s just that they know you. If they are real friends they accept you as you are, warts and all, and so writing flaws that a stranger might pick up on, a friend will not notice simply because — well — that’s just who you are to them, that’s how you talk so they don’t notice it.

Gibson is very good at exploring the insides of people’s heads, most especially his own. Because he can examine his own interior, he has the ability to get inside another person, have a look around and see what’s going on. That is a good way to write, from the inside out. I admit, after hearing his first chapter of this new book, I am very eager for him to write and publish the rest. Diane Arbus is an interesting subject anyway because she was part of that group of women artists, like Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton, who lived brave lives in a time of baffling social change and, ultimately, could no longer bear being in the world.

The Hovey House Writer’s group is always an inspiration for me. A new participant last night is working on her MFA in creative writing and is fortunate to having Irish writer Nuala O'Faolain as her mentor. I’ve been a fan of O'Faolain ever since reading her autobiographical Are You Somebody? It was wonderful to hear this writer talk about their relationship.

So, as always, we are reminded that writers write. We write because that’s what we do. Gibson began writing out of pain and discovered a gift and a love and we benefitted from his willingness to share with us last night. And I can’t wait for him to finish this book....

Thanks for reading....