Writing is a Community Effort

So I’ve been working on the Acknowledgments section for my novel. It’s a little more difficult than you might imagine. You see, the longer you think about people who have helped you get to where you are, the bigger the list will grow.

This is interesting for one simple reason: Writing is typically portrayed as a solitary endeavor. Indeed, solitude is a necessary component of the writing life. But it is also one of its greatest hazards. We create in isolation. The problem is, if we remain in isolation, creating itself can become a problem.

It is not a coincidence that some of the greatest words ever written were written on a mountaintop. I’m talking about the Ten Commandments. Of course, Moses had some Assistance. But if he’d stayed in his air-conditioned tent with Mom and the kids, it’s doubtful that the Ten Commandments would have ever been penned.

In a similar way, writerly inspiration is often reserved for those who are willing to scale the mountain, leave the behind the crowd, the distractions of life, and seek a place of creative solace. For most of us, our best work is done behind closed doors. We bring our laptop to the mountaintop, for it’s there that, on occasion, the heavens open. Seldom do the muses compete with the TV or iPod. Jessamyn West put it this way:

Writing is a solitary occupation. Family, friends, and society are the natural enemies of the writer. He must be alone, uninterrupted, and slightly savage if he is to sustain and complete an undertaking.

But writing has two sides. While we create in isolation, we advance in community. Good writing communicates, which is the least solitary of endeavors. To communicate is to commune, to interact with other intellects. A writer has not really succeeded until she has readers, someone who will “commune” with her material. Without the eyes and ears of others, our work is incomplete.

These two sides of writing — the alone-ness and the together-ness — are equally important, and I think, becoming a good writer means cultivating both halves. We need a quiet place to develop our skills and sift ideas, but we also need people who will read what we have written, pray for us, encourage, correct, affirm, and ultimately propel us back to our quarters with renewed vision and vigor.

Yes, as writers we must be “slightly savage” in seeking and defending our time alone. We must be equally savage in seeking and defending our time together. Which is why it surprises me how many writers avoid the writing community, eschew critique, and become islands unto themselves.

This weekend is the ACFW Conference. I’ve spent much time over the last few months contemplating attending. My agent will be there, several close writer friends, some cyber-friends I’d love to meet, along with a professional cast of established authors. I had such a great time at the 2006 ACFW Conference in Dallas, meeting folks like Gina Holmes, Jeanne Damoff, Brandalyn Collins, Dave Long, Janet Grant, Rebecca Miller, Michael Snyder, Mark Bertrand, Mary Demuth, Ane Mulligan, Michelle Pendergrass, Meg Mosely, Suzan Robertson, and others. For several reasons, I’ve decided not to attend this year’s event. Nevertheless, I am a growing believer in the need for writers to live in community.

Which is what I’m trying to do.

Last year, I was invited by a local author to visit their small writing group. I was at a low point in my writing life, having suffered several big rejections as well as parting ways with my first agent. The group met at a coffee shop, and I immediately felt at home. Our stories were remarkably similar. There was a lot of laughter, encouragement, and wisdom. We’ve met maybe a dozen times since then. That group has become SO important to me. You see, I can find inspiration on the mountaintop. But I cannot get a hug there. And sometimes, whether you care to admit it or not, that’s what we writers need… a word of encouragement, a steely-eyed exhortation, a high-five, or a listening ear.

Which is why in my Acknowledgments you will find these words, “Becky, Merrie, and Rachel… you have saved my writing life.”