I'm going to be very honest in this post. Lately, I've navigated a lot of thoughts about what it means to be a writer, and more specifically, what it means for me to be a writer. In the fall of 2009, I finally managed to center my mind and bust out my first novel. The ideas behind the story were compelling, and to this day, I love them. But the quality of my writing in my debut novel was horrendous. You know what? That's okay. That first book is a trophy to me. It's what allowed me to see that I can write a book, cover to cover. Since then, I've written nineteen other novels, and many short stories, too. Back then, I had big dreams, as most new authors do. My book will change the world! Agents and publishers are going to be clamoring to represent my book to the world! And so on and so forth. Well, the agents and publishers have never come clamoring to me. And my books have definitely not changed the world. But they have changed me.
Over the years, I've joined various writing groups and chapters. I've gone to conferences, book signings, and write-ins. I participated in NaNoWriMo for many years. I've rubbed shoulders with countless other authors. Through all of this, I have tried to find "my people." I've heard so many other authors gush about finding their people. I think it's great they're successful in that capacity. Unfortunately, that hasn't happened for me. I've put in a lot of effort doing so. Working with others in critique sessions, freely offering my skills in multiple capacities, and I've learned a very painful truth. Writing is a dog-eat-dog business. There are definitely exceptions to this, of course. I can think of one or two fellow writers who have returned writing favors. They're reliable, and I'll always be grateful for them. But they are definitely exceptions to the majority.
A couple weeks ago, I tested to see if my perspective on the writing community was skewed. I gave it another shot and attended one of the bigger writing conferences in Utah. The conference itself was good, with many enjoyable sessions. But there was a feeling there -- the same feeling I get at all of these types of events. Every attendee is a competitor to each other. Sharks in the water. I interacted one on one with various writers at the conference, and each and every one of them was so eager to tell me about their stories, their writing, their ideas. That's great. It's good that writers are eager to share what they're excited about. But in all my interactions, only one other attendee, who was actually there from a publishing house to take pitches, asked me about my writing. And that was only after she discovered I was a USA Today Bestselling author. Not a huge deal. But all of this reinforced my perceptions about the writing community.
These are not my people.
For now, I'm done searching for community among writers. I'm done self-promoting and pushing my stuff onto people who don't really have an interest in my writing. I'm refocusing the purpose of my writing and why I do it. Why I love it. I still have many stories to create. But I'm writing for the person truly invested in my writing: myself.
To all the other writers out there, keep on writing. Find purpose within your words. I'll do the same, because among my words and characters, that's where I find my community.
Write the good write.
