the literary life 11/12/09
Last night I drove into L.A. for an evening gathering with my pen fellows, which was both warming and productive. We hadn't gathered for a few weeks. We shared dishes potluck style in a friend's living room, talked about where we're at with our writing, and shared some new work. I was struck by how much we've gotten to know each other's writing in the past few months.
Anyway, I like being around writer energy. When I'm teaching, or lost in the spiral of a busy week, or blogging, or sitting in bed reading, or watching TV, I forget how healing it can actually be to just be around other writers struggling with similar questions: what classes should I take, how do I straddle my day job, am I ready to send this out?
I'm taking an online class, and I feel connected to a community of writers online and through my reading, but there's something reassuring about the face to face contact as well, even if it's just making to effort to go out and attend an author reading from time to time. I forget sometimes how important and uplifting that energy is...