Brey Willows

The writing road is better taken with friends.

And as you know if you’ve been reading this blog for any amount of time, I have trouble making them. And keeping them. And believing they actually like me or want me around.

But weeks like this one make me feel like I’m part of something.

The group that came together for last week’s Hatchery retreat in Devon was one that mostly knew each other, to some degree. There was plenty of laughter, lots of silence, and plenty of talk about books, writing, authors, and what we’re hoping to achieve. I wasn’t the only one there with anxiety, mental health stuff, and physical issues. Though I’m sad other people suffer, it was nice not to be the really odd one out.

One of the things everyone said at the end was how much they’d needed the time. Finding time in this busy world to devote to your craft can be so difficult. There are so many demands on our time, and sitting down to create something can feel almost selfish.

It’s isn’t selfish. It’s necessary.

I really loved sitting outside and chatting with people about anything and everything. I loved the hugs, the understanding, the ability to talk to other writers who know what you’re trying to do and how hard it can be to do it. That’s something else which is hard to find in daily life. Writing communities are such an undervalued part of what we do, and yet they’re really, really important.

It was a fantastic week, and we’re considering doing another one in September/October. If you’re interested in this kind of experience, you should really give it a go. I’m happy to answer questions if you have any.

Happy writing.

Oh. And here’s a picture of Frank the Farmcat, who knew exactly where he belonged.