When you put your books on a shelf, you usually have to lean a few against the rest to keep them from toppling over. The people who write those books are like that too. If we don’t lean, talk, share, criticize, argue, laugh, agonize and encourage, I believe we writers can also topple over. This life of writing is solitary, that is a true fact, but instinctively, in a way unique and peculiar to writers, we surface long enough to seek out others of our species. I think we do it as a survival mechanism against self doubt and to remind ourselves why we began to write in the first place. Absolutely no one, but another writer would understand statements like the following
1) I’m never writing again for the rest of my life!
2)I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t write!
3) What do those ‘other’ people do with themselves, ya know, those who don’t write?
I hear all the writers out there chuckling. You have to admit, we are a temperamental lot and damn hard to understand, but when the going is rough or we accomplish something, we are there for each other. This week I have been the very humbled and blessed recipient of that support and I just wanted to post and say thank you for your kind words, shameless peddling of my children’s novel and just all around goodness. I have felt the zen vibes you guys and I love them. Literary hugs to everybody.