In my last post, I wondered about tribes and finding one. Perhaps that sense of isolation came from so many years as a gypsy cruiser on Sea Venture, connecting with boat people or via social media. Here, at home in NC, taking care of my mama, I’m miles from town, tethered to more than a few by that same Internet.
And then came a recent writers conference (OWFI). I’d been invited to sit on an editor/agent panel and asked to take appointments. They gave me a shepherd so see to my comfort. Oh, my, what luxury.
And, lookee there, so many lovely new faces. Scads of eager writers and a slew of editors and agents. Most wore friendly, eager expressions, those writers, hoping that someone would want them and their work.
This blog is not about Normandie the editor. Here, I’m a writer, hugging my own stories to my breast, waiting with eager eyes for someone to love my children as much as I do. I’ll just say that I’m glad I know that angst: it gave me compassion for those sitting on the other side of the table with their hopeful eyes and sometimes quavering voice.
I came away from that conference smiling. Fatigued, yes, but with the assurance that my tribe had enlarged. That lovely young shepherd, Robin Patchen, who brought me Starbucks every morning, probably had no idea that we’d bond so well or that her eager enthusiasm would cajole me into asking for a sample edit. Based on that sample, I offered Robin a place on the Wayside Press team. But the circle Robin and I formed moves beyond the publishing house, overlapping into friendship and the symbiosis of one writer helping another.
We make friends and enlarge our circles for any number of reasons, but friends should have each other’s back. That conference also allowed me to meet and enjoy another new friend, C Hope Clark, who hails from the state to the south of NC. I’m reading her first story now, Lowcountry Bribe, published by Bell Bridge Books. Her next will be set in Beaufort, SC. Hope and I decided we’d market books together: she, using the Beaufort (Bewfort) setting, and I, using my Beaufort (Bowfort) crew; she, telling about shrimp boats, and I, about sailboats. She’s a hoot, which is what Southern gals who write ought to be.
I made other friends and renewed acquaintances at the conference. Between them and a new Facebook clan at Writer Unboxed, I’m kicking up my heels.
Do you live in a city or someplace crowded with people? If so, do you connect with them, or do you feel isolated among the masses, an unseen face and an unheard voice? How do you reconcile your life with the need for connections?
If you live in a remote area, far from neighbors or in a small town with only a handful of friends, how do you reach out and enlarge your tribe?
I’d love to hear from you.