Writing Community Week Day Four: In Which I Nag a Whole Lot

This week we spoke about the writing community, and this is what we learned:

• You want to work on your writing.

• You want to learn the basics, even style guides.

• You’re willing to read, write, and thrive.

• You’re up for prompts.

• You’re totally up for NaNoWriMo

• Hell, you’re willing to sell a kidney for more writing skills.

• You’re willing to meet writers in person.

I think I made a mistake on that last point. Let me try again:

• You’d rather be dragged over a termite mound naked and covered in syrup than attend a writing event.

<sigh> Even my longtime mentee has not gone to a single event in the two or three years we’ve been working together. I’m screaming internally right now because, as someone who has been inserted in the writing scene for 30 years, I know what you can gain from these events.

You want those gains.

Trust me on this one.

I’m a de facto social phobic, so I completely understand your reticence. I still want you to attend events because:

• It’s one of the most powerful ways to grow into your identity as a writer.

• It’s literally the only way to truly understand what your audience feels when hearing your work.

• It’s fun.

• No, really.

• It’s the easiest way to find publishing opportunities and competitions.

• You will be inspired every time you arrive home after a reading, writer’s block be damned.

• Fucking hell why won’t you do events? <screeeeeeaaam>

I have a policy in this workshop: I do not nag. I have probably never nagged most of you. Just some of you. So it’s remarkable that I’m nagging ALL of you right now. This break in ethics can be loosely translated as, “This is important—so important that I’m willing to break my nagging rule over it.”

You NEED to feel a part of the community. You NEED to feel you can identify as a writer. You NEED to see your audience. You NEED to have writing friends to trade work with. You need this. Trust me.

It’s okay to attend events and never perform at them. It’s okay to melt into the wallpaper. You do not have to turn into a confident, sociable performer. You can take your shy butt to an event and not talk to a soul. This is easy. All the chairs are usually placed in rows that face one way. This is a prime situation for a socially-phobic human because you can walk in, sit your butt down, and read a book while you wait for the event to start. You can wear your invisibility cloak. You’re among introverts. They will understand.

When I do events that terrify me, I make myself a promise: Just because I turn up, doesn't mean I can't leave 10 minutes later. If you feel uncomfortable after you arrive, you can leave, but please get your butt to an event. Yes, even Woody and gureag.