Breaking the Solitude

We hear it all the time. The only way to get writing done is to “put your butt in the chair.” Show up and just do it. Punch those keys, push that pen. It requires mental fortitude, commitment, a will to write. And a willingness to shut out everything else, endure the solitude.

It’s been a quiet fall. The sudden cancellation of our September travel plans left me at home with an empty slate. An abundance of empty mornings that screamed Writing Time. A lack of excuses. A productive stretch. A lot of time spent inside my own head.

Yet as I look back over the last few weeks, I can see the benefits I reap from my so-called solitary pursuit.

A chance meeting at a birding event with my husband, Rich, led to a coffee date with another nascent writer. She shared her passion for submitting stories to publications, reigniting my resolve to pursue more short pieces and send them out into the world. We swapped sources, favorite contests and writing goals all with a heavy dose of encouragement.

Through Lake Superior Writers, I have met local writers and now call many of them friends. Most are far more accomplished than I, yet generously share their knowledge, their experiences, their support. I can pour out my fears and inhibitions and they get it. They’ve been through it. Just recently, I spent several hours walking the woods of Lester Park and Hawk Ridge with two such women. With each crisp footstep and breath of Northwoods air, I relished the one-on-one connection, the common pursuit of elusive goals. No matter our skill levels.

My very first writing class was a week-long immersion in travel memoir, sequestered on beautiful Madeline Island. The twelve women in the class bonded by week’s end, sharing our writing aloud – hesitantly at first, then more eagerly as the week progressed. Last weekend, five of us gathered for dinner. We’ve managed a haphazard schedule of reunions since we first met four years ago. Of course, we all brought a piece to read. We still cheer one another on.

My own writing group met a few days ago. We’re only three in number, but we hold one another accountable. Critique each other’s works. One member has accurately dubbed it the Motivation Group. Once again, it’s the common bond of writing that unites us. Enriches our lives with this connection.

Today I just returned from the North Shore Readers and Writers Festival in Grand Marais. This bi-annual assembly of authors, instructors, book lovers and writers is the pinnacle of literary indulgence. For four days, I attended classes, listened to speakers and panels, and rubbed elbows with other writers all day long. Socializing over wine, meeting up for dinner, or just sitting in the same sessions widened my network of fellow writers and friends. But even better I could share my passion with like-minded folks. People who ground me. Reinforce my desire, and fully share the journey.

I came home exhausted but inspired. Ready to put my butt in the chair again. New ideas racing through my head. Suddenly, I don’t feel so alone anymore.