I need a writing friend right here. We need to settle in front of the fireplace on a cold day like this, hot cocoa and laptops at the ready, and talk about our mutual writing. The questions need to fly fast and furious: What can I do about this? Don't you agree this is awful? How can I improve it? Where does the plot go from here? How would my character react realistically to this situation?
Once we've hashed out those and a dozen other questions, there needs to be silence except for the sound of fingers flying on keyboards. Nice companionable silence. Maybe music in the background if we can agree on what inspires. . .Mozart, Big Band. . .you get the picture.
Alas, I found no kindred spirit in the writing group here. They all seemed rather self-absorbed to me--though perhaps I didn't give them a chance. I think if I'd stayed with the club, though, I'd never have entered contests or had the courage to submit a novel synopsis. I just wasn't inspired or motivated at the end of a meeting.
Online writing buddies are wonderful, but I need someone here, too. There is a writing group that meets at the library in town on Sunday afternoons, but I've been hesitant to go. I suppose I need to try it. Going into new groups is so difficult for me. However, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Maybe this weekend. . .