This time of year, the schedule is full of holiday parties. One I don’t miss is the RMFW party (and, yes, it has taken place this year). I also try to make my critique group critique-and-party, and that was yesterday. January in critique will be having me taking in the beautiful-art self-care cards that I hand out everywhere (retreats, all my seminars), before we talk about our yearly goals.
For me, these are important gatherings of my tribe.
Now, I am a full time writer, and I am in the company of other writers every day online. But I still cherish the in-person get-togethers and the conversation.
First, because my online writing-sprint group is mostly fantasy writers and we talk about that genre: multi-book story arcs and world-building and suchlike. I like talking about romance, and mystery, and thrillers and how those genres have specific demands that readers expect their authors to fulfill. How they differ – the emphasis of the story, the pacing. I get a broader appreciation for how others in my craft handle their projects.
Second, I am a long-time volunteer with RMFW and I like to talk with old buddies and make new ones.
But I also remember when I was a writer who had little to do with others, who belonged to RMFW but didn’t attend the parties. I’d go to some of the seminars and sit in the corner and take notes. I’d be at conference. But the less structured social occasions I’d usually skip.
Until the first RMFW holiday party I was coerced into attending mumbledy-mumble years ago. It was a revelation. The standard questions that people asked then still works. “What do you write?” and “Tell me about your current manuscript.” I’d listen and smile at the intensity of my fellow writers and feel like I belonged.
I kept coming. I could talk about problems and get a second, or third, take. Research talk would swirl around like the smoke of inspiration, just waiting for me to use it – or tuck it away to perhaps use some other time. Or, since I do write fantasy, figure out I could twist it and put it in an other-worldly story.
No one thought I was weird if I wanted to talk about herbs or poisons or how long rigor mortis lasts (yes, I often have suspense in my stories, too). Or, of late, how to make a knife out of a person’s femur.
Then there’s the networking. Priceless. Who’s your editor? What’s s/he buying? Get self-publishing tips…I’ve moved over to Scrivener finally after sticking with Word Perfect, it’s better on a Mac. Should I get a Mac?
Here in Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers, we share. You need only ask.
If there’s a seminar topic coming up – go. You’ll meet people interested in the same thing you are, as well as learn something. If there’s a social occasion, go.
Make it a priority to spend time with other writers, in person. So you can see the passion they have about writing, how they gesture, give them an outlet of a person who listens and whose eyes don’t glaze over when they talk about character arc. Someone who cares about writing.
Let yourself go and follow your own passion, talk about motivation or dialogue or the research you’ve been doing.
We’ll all be better for the company.
So, as they say in my books: Merry meet and merry part and merry meet again. May next year be your best writing year EVER.
Robin
And may your next writing year be the best ever as well, Robin. I agree 100% that being with other writers is a comfort, is educational, is inspirational, and is so necessary. That’s why I value my writers’ group and the Colorado Gold conference so much.
Great article Robin. As one of those who also tends to skip the unstructured stuff, I appreciate the insight this post offers.