Meeting with like-minded people is a requirement for me as a writer. Most “normal” people don’t “get” how I think, how I read, or how I make connections between seemingly unconnectable things. Writers get that about my brain because their brains work along the same lines. That is how stories are made, I think.
Anyway, we had a new writer join our writers’ group meeting the other day. She noticed our familiarity with each other and asked what kept us showing up at the meetings. It was interesting to hear what others had to say, and by the end of it, I felt that our little band of writers is truly becoming a writing family.
As I write this, I wonder if Jack Kerouac and friends felt the same way in that little bookshop in San Francisco as we do in our bowling alley in Georgia. The camaraderie of meetings with fellow writers while toiling through our solitary passions. The support in the art of what we are doing.
And now I am picturing an all-out brawl breaking out over the use of the Oxford comma. (Yes, this is how my brain works.) Not in their meeting or in our meetings, but I can see the fight club in my mind. Okay, I must stop now, otherwise, I will have another story on my hands and I really need to get back to that novel.
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