The Value of Write Ins

I love write ins. They are absolute life-savers. Seriously, they're super-duper awesome, and if you're a writer and haven't been to one before (or even heard of them), you don't know what you're missing.

I was first introduced to the idea through the famous and fabulous event known as National Novel Writing Month (or NaNoWriMo, as its participants fondly call it). During this month-long extravaganza, writers meet up in libraries, coffee shops and other casual hangout spots to crank out as many words as they can. There is usually no or very little talking involved, except for the occasional question if a writer gets stuck and needs some quick feedback. The point is simple: to eliminate all distractions---pets, screaming kids, spouses, the real housewives of whatever city---and do that writing thing we're supposed to do.

I know on the surface, sitting in the same room with a bunch of other writers doesn't seem that extraordinary. After all, I can do that at home too, right? Well...yes. And no. Here's the thing: No matter how incredible our writing may be, no matter how well our characters resonate with our readers and our prose stirs the soul, we're not superheroes. We're simple, flawed, limited human beings who need support. We need folks to bounce ideas off of, folks to drag us down from the pedestals we build for ourselves, folks that can, if necessary, look us in the eye and tell us we've gone stark raving mad.

Writing groups exist to fulfill that need, either in a physical sense or increasingly, in a virtual one. Blogs like this one are a perfect example. We may not all be in the same city, state or even country, but we're still connected across time and space, encouraging and uplifting each other, pushing one another to succeed. The brilliant Mark Twain once said, "Keep away from those who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great make you believe that you too can become great."

And sometimes that greatness just comes from being in the same room with a like-minded soul. Sometimes it's just knowing that someone is nearby who's doing the exact same thing you are, experiencing the same sense of elation at their accomplishments and struggling with the same kinds of challenges. Sometimes just knowing you aren't alone is enough.

Today, it was more than enough for me.

P.S.: If you're not part of a local writer's group and you're looking for one, check out a funky little site called Meetup.com. It allows you to search locally for just about any kind of club or organization your heart desires, all from the comfort of your own home. Ain't modern technology grand?

Shadow Play: Thoughts About Writers And Depression

I've been in a weird, tired, cranky mood lately, and it's doing some not good things to my writing. For one thing, I haven't touched my WIP in almost two weeks. For another, I'm having a really rough time composing blog posts. I started at least three or four this week, but for some reason I couldn't finish any of them. Even writing about how much I don't feel like writing is proving difficult.

I'm convinced this is a nasty phase that will pass in a few days, but that doesn't make getting through it any easier. I don't care for myself when I feel this way--and I'm sure my DH doesn't, either! Coincidentally (or not), Colleen Lindsay posted a link to writer Colin Rowsell's blog, where he started what might be the most thought-provoking discussion on writers and depression I've ever seen. Many of the stories told there were deeply moving, mainly because I could relate to everything my fellow writers said. Reading their words was like walking through a funhouse of mirrors; the images I saw took different sizes and shapes, but in the end, they were all very much like me.

There. I said it. I am one of the thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands, of writers who has struggled with chronic depression. It is the gloomy cloud that has followed me throughout my teenage and adult life, and it has taken me to some devastating places. Over the years, I have fought hard to overcome this invisible nemesis; some battles I've won and others I've lost. Ultimately, it is my belief in Jesus, support from family and friends, and some occasional professional help that keep me from falling headlong into the darkness.

Surprised? Don't be. Chances are, if you don't suffer from the same thing, you know someone who does. Especially if you're a writer.

Ours is a lonely, isolating craft. We have a unique ability to see the beautiful and the ugly parts of humanity, and like a mirror, we reflect what we see back to our readers. It is both a gift and a curse. The loveliness is exhiliarating to witness and thrilling to capture--I could spend all day writing about the birth of my son, for example--yet the evil is equally disturbing, and that is what drives so many of us to pills, to the bottle, to despair, to suicide. We must have both sides of the coin. It would be impossible to for everyone to write about sunshine and rainbows all the time; the challenge is for us to observe the shadows from a distance without becoming consumed by them.

I don't have all the answers. I wish I did. I only know what I do when depression rears its disgusting head and tries to take away all that I have worked to obtain. I breathe, step away from whatever I'm working on, regroup and try again later. I allow my husband and son to make me laugh. I eat really good chocolate and drink delicious, satisfying tea. I seek support from other writers who have felt the same pain. I pray until the storm passes. And it does. Every time without fail.

Because in the end, it's all just shadow play.