Powered by Communal Energy

I just got back from teaching writing workshops at the National Audio Theatre Festivals audio theater week. I was reminded again of the communal energy generated when a group of writers gets together. No matter how introverted or solitary we writers can be, there is a pow of electricity that can happen, under the right circumstances, when you get a group of us in a room and you ask the right questions. It was exciting to be instrumental in generating some of that energy this past week.

Whenever you plug in to that communal energy, however, you have to find a way to ride it and channel it. How do you carry that energy into the solitary part of writing and focus it onto your work?

I feel fortunate to have a teacher's schedule, because I can go to a workshop or writing group in the summer and then have lots of opportunities to capitalize on that energy during the time available to me in summer vacation. As long as I don't let the time slip through my fingers in a glorious haze of napping and gardening!

Claiming the Name of "Writer"

The other day, I was talking with a friend who has lived the life of a writer for many years, has published and been produced, had an agent and attends a critique group. However, because life and schedule has kept him from writing during the recent past, he now seems reluctant to call himself a writer. It got me thinking about the whole process of whether we call ourselves writers to the outside world or not and the significance of that decision.

For me, "taking the plunge" to call myself a writer didn't happen overnight. You could say it's been pending since I was 8 years old, but the true shift has only happened during the past 5-10 years. There were many steps that led me to give myself permission to say, "I'm a writer:" Writing for an audience besides myself. Getting paid to do it once in a while. Being asked to do it for work, to help others with their writing. Shifting from assignments by and for others to writing my own stuff again. Letting people read and hear my work besides my husband and parents. Connecting with other writers. Setting myself writing goals and working towards them. Seeking to learn and improve upon my work. Asking for criticism and learning to accept it. Attending conferences. Submitting lots of pieces and getting lots of rejection letters. Hearing other people call me a writer. All of these led me to feel I had earned the name of writer and continued to merit that name.

On the other hand, many of those steps would never have happened if I HADN'T started calling myself a writer first. Perhaps by claiming the name, I set myself a level of expectations to be worthy of that name. And I still find it odd to say, "I'm a writer," as if someone will ask me for my writer's license or the secret code word to the club and then they'll discover I'm a fraud. But I get more comfortable with it as time goes on.

By the way, I basically told my friend that once a writer, always a writer, or, as the saying goes, you can't unring that bell.

Have you claimed the name of writer? What did it mean for you to do that? If you haven't, why not?