True, when you’re actually writing, it’s pretty much just you and your imagination. The most productive writing spurts typically occur when you’re “in the zone,” when you’re experiencing “flow.” Time passes unnoticed because you’re in another world, creating each moment keystroke by keystroke. But the actual writing is only part of what writers do. Does it have to be the loneliest profession?
Speaking for myself, I’ve never been much of a joiner, mixer, or party animal. Most writers are introverts. I can force myself to speak and spent a decade as a trial attorney, but it does not come easily or naturally. I never speak off-the-cuff. I prepare in advance. So I suspect that, but for publishing books, I might never meet people at all. Writing has given me the opportunity to travel from coast to coast and all around the world. Teaching seminars and speaking at conferences has given me a marvelous chance to meet people who share the same interests and concerns. Many of my best friends have emerged from these opportunities–and none of those would have happened but for the time I spent alone “in the zone.”
Do you have to write in solitude? Probably at first. Many years of working at home with three children in the house gave me the ability to block out almost anything. The rule supposedly was, “Don’t disturb Daddy unless you’re bleeding or on fire,” but in actual practice, the standard was significantly lower. I learned to focus. I’ve written in shopping malls, hospitals, sports arenas, parked cars. When you’ve got work to do, you take whatever time you have to get it done.
The internet has given us more opportunities to connect–assuming you consider social media to be connecting. Homebodies can Skype and post and share–almost too easily. I hope I don’t have to tell you to shut off those notifications that appear on your computer desktop or to stop checking your phone or email every ten seconds–otherwise you’ll never get much accomplished. Instead of battling solitude, too often today we’re battling constant interruption in a world where messaging is far too easy.
I’ve been in this business almost thirty years now, but I distinctly remember when I first started trying to market my first book. I eventually became aware that there were writing groups in the area. Tulsa Nightwriters was a group of friendly folk who met once a month. The speakers were often terrific, but what I liked most was the chance to hang with other writers. Nightwriters hosted an annual conference back then, and I never missed it.
Almost everything I do now, outside of writing itself, is based upon my memory of those early years, desperately wanting the information I needed to break into the world of publishing. I knew of no one-on-one retreats where experienced pros worked over manuscripts and gave people one-on-one advice on how to improve their writing. How much time I might’ve saved! Now I spend a great deal of the summer providing those opportunities to aspiring writers, hoping I can shorten the time they wait for success. I host the annual conference at Rose State for the same reason. If someone is serious about being a writer, a small fee and a weekend is all they need to give up to obtain access to top-flight professionals. Knowledge and opportunity, all in one building over one weekend. Many people have jumpstarted their careers with a connection made at these conferences.
I don’t think writing is the loneliest profession. I think I would’ve been far lonelier if I had done anything else–in no small part because I would’ve always rather been a writer. Writers can make all the social connections I’ve just mentioned, but most importantly, they can reach out to readers–hundreds, thousands, perhaps even millions of readers. Reading is a communion between author and reader, two people who probably have never met, but still have a profound shared experience. I don’t know of any other profession that gives people anything like that. I think we are truly fortunate.