August 14, 2017

wild writing weekend 2017

I was pretty quiet on social media over the weekend. My local RWA chapter booked a hotel and hosted a weekend writing retreat. A weekend committed to word count and some fellowship with writers seemed like exactly what I needed. Following the rules set by our group leader, I turned off my phone for most of Friday night and Saturday. I checked my emails twice, as opposed to my usual twenty times. I logged onto Facebook once to read notifications, and I sent out one tweet.

That's kind of crazy for someone who admittedly spends too much time online. And the break was just what I needed to make a big dent on my WIP.

Hanging out with Captain Jack Sparrow at the Wild Writing Weekend.

After writing more than 9,000 words between Friday night and 5 on Saturday, I rewarded myself by logging back online. I checked the responses to my tweet. One said, “Go back, quickly, before you get sucked into current events. Just turn away and return to happy writing immersion!”

Despite the warning, I checked the news. It broke my heart.  While I was lost in my world of words about love, others were embroiled in a world of hate. This isn't about politics or opinions. It's about humanity. It's about love versus hate.

I often wonder what I’m doing with my good fortune and my privilege. In a world where people are hungry and hurt, scared and persecuted, what am I doing? Is it all frivolous and self-indulgent? Rather than spending a weekend in a hotel writing a book, should I be doing something else?

While attending RWA, I encountered countless other authors who have the same thoughts. Sometimes they're enough to make you stop writing for some time. But these writers gave me insight I needed. My writing may not change the whole world, but maybe one it will brighten one person’s day. That's not mass change and good-will, but it matters to that person.

So Sunday morning, I woke for my final writing sessions and decided to keep going. Maybe my love stories won't change the world, but they give me a purpose. They make me focus on the love and good in the world instead of always on the anger and hate. It's probably still self-indulgent. But I hope that in writing these stories, I'm making love not hate. And maybe that does count for something.

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