'Just write'... by Sue Purkiss

I first started teaching a writing class in the community about ten years ago. It was an evening class then, and we met in the studio of an artist friend, Sara Parsons - a building full of atmosphere, full of paintings, full of inspiration. I remember being very nervous before the first class: as always, I worried as to whether I'd prepared enough material. (I always mither about this, and I don't know why, because in all the school lessons I've taught, all the workshops I've run, I've never once run out of material. But there it is.)

It was billed as an introduction to creative writing, and it worked really well. There was a good mix of people, and everyone seemed to enjoy it. The only person for whom it really didn't work out was the man who had a French girlfriend, and thought this would be a good way for her to learn English. It wasn't, but I think the rest of us all learned something from it. As that first term came to an end, I wondered if anyone would like to carry on. Enough did, and I've been teaching a group ever since.

We've had several changes of venue. After Sara's studio, we went to Hannah More Cottage. Hannah More was a writer and philanthropist, born in Bristol in 1745. Encouraged by William Wilberforce, who was shocked at the benighted state of the poor in Cheddar and surrounding villages, she set up twelve schools in the Mendips, one of them in Cheddar, where she also had a cottage which is now the property of the parish council. So it's a very proper place for learning. I had an evening class there and also a morning one.

I can't quite remember why, but after a year or two we moved again, this time to the Catholic Hall. By now we met on Thursday mornings. Numbers dwindled, for various reasons, and so we moved again, this time to an outbuilding of the Riverside Inn, which Huw, the landlord - and another philanthropist - allows us to use at no cost. And this is where we've been ever since. It's quite small, and I've had to turn away a couple of people who would have liked to join the group lately because we simply couldn't have fitted them in.

The group's lost people and it's gained people. There are only two who have been in it since the beginning. We've lost some to illness (one tragically young); others reached the stage where they felt they'd got as much out of it as they could, or because other interests were taking up more of their time. But most of the present group have been in it for several years. We produced one anthology a few years ago, and we've just brought out another, of which more later.

The first anthology. The room where we meet is known as the barn - hence the title.

And what do we do? Well, to start off with, it was quite structured, with shorter and longer writing exercises each week around a particular topic. This has evolved now into a simpler format - partly because we talk too much, and partly because we've found a structure that works for us. Basically, we have a chat and catch up over coffee from the pub. We used to set the world to rights, but there's not been so much of that lately - it's become too much of a challenge, even for us.

Then everyone reads what they've done since the previous week, and we discuss the work. The discussion is constructive, encouraging and helpful. There's a lot of laughter, and sometimes there's that wonderful silence that comes when a piece has really moved us - when it has that special quality that makes it linger in the memory long after that first hearing.

After that, if there's time, we do a bit of writing - quick, short prompts usually. Then I set a homework. It's tacitly understood that this is a suggestion only: it's quite rare for everyone to do it - but everyone almost always does something - and I am constantly amazed and humbled by the variety and quality of work that emerges. We have recently had guests, too - Jonathan Pinnock, Lynne Benton and Kathryn White - and everyone hugely enjoyed having a fresh input from someone who wasn't me.

The work is entertaining. Some of it's sad, some of it's chilling, some of it is very moving. So it seems a shame not to do something with it. The first anthology I produced was with Lulu, a self-publishing company. The idea was to have copies to give to family and friends. Since then I'd used Amazon Createspace for one of my own out-of-print books, and I felt it had advantages over Lulu - in particular, it's quicker and easier for ordering. So, a couple of years ago, I began the process of choosing, collecting and editing stories and a few poems from the members of the group. It took a lot longer than I'd thought it would, and there were some things that, recognising my limitations, I decided early on not to do battle with - a contents list with page numbers, for instance. I've no doubt that there are still mistakes - but on the whole, I think it looks pretty good. The group were involved in much of the decision-making - particularly with regard to the cover. The discussions about that were very lively.

We've decided this time to try to raise some money for a local charity - an advantage of using Amazon is that we can easily make £2.50 profit on each book. And that's the next challenge - we haven't yet worked out quite where and how we're going to sell it. (Any suggestions welcome!) But we're making a start - in a couple of weeks, there's going to be a display in the library window.

So what are the advantages of a group such as this? The anthology is something tangible. But the things you can't see are actually far more important. It's fun, for a start. The group are very supportive of each other, and not just where writing is concerned. But the writing itself is at the core of it. Everyone enjoys the act of writing, and of sharing their work. And they have, in some cases, found that the writing has been a vehicle for dealing with difficult things that have happened in the past: it's been fascinating - and sobering - to see the long reach of experiences people have had in childhood. Some find that writing has a cathartic effect; for others, it's sheer pleasure. Some of us have dabbled in competitions, and I'm happy to encourage those who are keen, though my own feeling is that that way lies heartache!

The book is available from Amazon for £6.99, and you're absolutely allowed to buy it! Or, you can get it directly from me at a discount. All profits will go to a local charity for young people - there are two options, and we haven't yet decided which one to go for.