Word Weavers Unite
The unseen thread of camaraderie among scribblers
“Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, ‘What! You too? I thought I was the only one.’” C. S. Lewis (1898–1963)
Hey, ever had someone say...
“Being a writer must be so fab”? Yeah, right. To me, starting was like being blindfolded, chucked into a massive bookstore, and asked to pick a lane. And hey, every street was like, “Come here, you’ll love it!” or “Nah, sweetheart, this ain’t for you.” Talk about a whirlwind romance with words!
Transitioning from the tumultuous yet enthralling streets of genres to the harsh reality of public scrutiny wasn’t a bed of roses either.
Every side-eye or smirk at my work felt like they’d slapped my dog. No kidding. I’d look around, thinking every other scribbler had their style, their groove sorted, and yours truly? Lost in translation. Ever felt your story was the odd duck in a pool of swans? That was me, flapping and quacking away.
I’m at this writers’ shindig, right? Next to me is this bundle of sophistication, writing stuff like going from Mars to my Venus. I’d love to sit here and tell ya I’ve always been Ms. Cool, nodding wisely at every comment. But that’d be a load of hogwash.
I’ve had my share of “Pack it in, darlin’, they’re never gonna get it.” Nights where I’d stare at the ceiling, wondering if I was regurgitating some dead dude’s or dudette’s thoughts.
The oscillation between self-doubt and the intrinsic allure of words led me to an important realization.
Writing is an emotional rodeo! I’ve read stuff that’s the polar opposite of my vibe, and guess what? Got me right in the feels.
That’s the groove of words—they don’t pick sides; they pick souls.
Oh sure, I’ve had my rockstar moments: “You nailed it, love!” But, rolling down the lane, it dawned on me:
It isn’t about the applause or the money; it’s about the heartbeat in the words.
The journey from seeking validation to sharing my heart through scribbles unveiled a whole new realm of word-wielding.
I share my scribbles, not like stepping into a gladiator ring, but more like, “Hey, pull up a chair. Let’s connect.” Every word warrior out there’s got a tale, a story, a narrative. Why not swap stories instead of verbal blows?
The next time you’re in the trenches with another word, nerd, ditch the gloves. Crack open a Perrier and trade a yarn or two. After all, ain’t no rulebook saying our literary love can’t have a bit of a laugh, right?
As the clinks of our glasses resonate in the cozy camaraderie, I’m reminded of the profoundness of Ernest Hemingway’s (1899–1961) words:
“Writing, at its best, is a lonely life. Organizations for writers palliate the writer’s loneliness but I doubt if they improve his writing. He grows in public stature as he sheds his loneliness and often his work deteriorates. For he does his work alone and if he is a good enough writer he must face eternity, or the lack of it, each day.”
In the heart of this whimsical writing journey, amidst the whirlwinds and calm seas, the ‘You too?’ moments have made all the difference. They’ve transformed the solitary act of writing into a communal soiree of soulful storytelling. Here, in the trenches of words, I found my tribe. And oh, what a fabulous tribe it is!
References:
Hemingway, Ernest. “Nobel Prize Acceptance Speech.” Delivered by John C. Cabot at the Nobel Banquet, Stockholm, Sweden, December 10, 1954. Nobel Prize Archive.
Lewis, C.S. (1960).“The Four Loves.” HarperOne.





