Sorry, I’m later than I’d intended posting today. Blame equal parts the Olympics and getting down to the wire on a novella I’m writing for Loose ID. I want to put Midnight Soldier to bed before my sister arrives Monday afternoon, but am having a devil of a time with the last 2-3 thousand words. The Olympics has something to do with it, but I suspect the temperature is adding to my letheragy. Yesterday at 108 equaled the record and we might beat it today. oh wow! Which is why I picked tomatoes and onions before 8.
What? Oh yeah, you’re right, if I’m going to have a certain title, I should expand on it. I live in a town so small we have to share our horse with the next burg. As a result, unless someone’s hiding out, I’m the only writer anywhere around. That’s probably why I’m into my fourth year as president of our regional writer’s organization, a loosely structured group of women who get together once a month and stay in touch via email. Until a recent addition about four months ago, I was the only full-time writer in the group, but that didn’t matter. They know me in ways outsiders never can, and I feel the same about them. Earlier this week, one member’s very ill mother in law died, and we all shared in her loss and relief. We love each other’s families, share pain and laughter and occasional conversations about writing. Even though I don’t give blow by blows on my current projects (who can keep up, me included) when I share about various aspects of my career, I know they care.
Its the same and yet different with the friends I’ve made via the Internet. Some I’m in contact with on a regular basis, others filter in and out of my world as writing-related issues come up. An example: this week, another member of a national published writers’ organization confessed her nightmarish experiences with a publisher. She wasn’t looking for solutions, just sympathetic ears and eyes. What she got was a lot of emails that basically said, “Been there, done that,” and “You’re a good writer, you’ll land on your feet.” When I correspond with other published writers, there’s an instant connection. We speak the same language and have the same scars. Instead of keeping our wisdom to ourselves, we reach out. We share.
I can’t imagine not having both face-to-face and virtual writer friends. To all of you, you’re what keeps me marginally sane.
Vonna
August 15th, 2008 at 2:58 pm
Absolutely! I didn’t really start interacting on the web in a writerly capacity until a couple of years ago, but the level of encouragement and help I’ve received from some very generous writers just blows me away and makes me want to be that person for someone else.