Reader, it has occurred to me that I am lonely. Really really lonely.
I'm tired of feeling like my writing is supposed to be both my super fulfilling job and my fun weekend activity. I've decided that just because I'm not thrilled to spend Friday evening or Saturday afternoon writing—not because I chose to but because I have nothing else to do—doesn't make me any less of a writer.
I think it just makes me human.
I know writers are always talking about how they fantasize about being all alone, in a Rapunzel-like tower far away where they could just write and write and write in blissful solitude.
I don't think anyone really wants this. Being alone is lonely. Trust me. And I don't write just because I love words, I write because I want to share stories with other people. Otherwise I would just spend the rest of my life reading.
Swap out writing for reading in that Rapunzel tower fantasy and it starts to make a lot more sense to me. Then again, whenever I finished a book I would want to talk about it with someone. Isn't that the second best part of reading a book? So even reading in total solitude doesn't appeal to me all that much.
The point is: we need people. At least, I do. Maybe it's partially because I'm a twin. There's never been a moment in my life when I was totally alone. I'm happiest in a room or house full of people. It's best if they mostly leave me alone. I just want them near me. But I don't have that right now.
So, what am I going to do about it?
Well, I'm not just going to mope around. I'm not exactly sure what to do, but I'm going to start giving some things a try. For starters I joined the Maine Writers and Publishers Association and I reached out to a poster on the MWPA forum who is looking to start a SciFi/Fantasy writers collective.
It's not easy to put yourself out there but considering that no one has come knocking on my door in the last eight months since I moved to Maine asking to be my friend, I really don't have any other choice.
Here's to small victories on a rainy Friday afternoon. And here's to remembering that sometimes the problem isn't what we're doing or where we're going, it's something else entirely. Like loneliness. Naming the problem is a powerful thing. The first step towards conquering it.