Dream Sequence: Last night’s dreams had a hundred different story lines, but the most vivid one involved a neighbor’s yard. Apparently there were bodies buried there, with actual gravemarkers and such (as opposed to the bodies buried in my yard, which have no markers and several pounds of lye on them). The newest grave belonged to someone I sort of knew. I looked around and noticed some orange flowers growing on the other side of the lawn, so I picked a few of them to place on his grave. The man’s wife, an older woman, approached me and asked if I had come to pay respects. I said yes, and showed her the flowers, but they had all withered and died. The dream left me feeling icky.
Join a writer’s group. Go. Now. Do it. Don’t make me yell.
There’s nothing in this world that can help a writer more than joining a writer’s group. And it’s not just the critiques (although the critiques are probably the most quantifiable goodness of the group). A writer’s group is like a hot bath for your creativity; healing, soothing, revitalizing, cleansing, squishy, wavy, fun and dangerous if you fall asleep. Okay, maybe not squishy. And wavy is a little abstract. But everything else applies.
My writer’s group (G.D. Scribes, Repra’sent!) is the monkey’s banana. The best bunch of people you could meet, and an even better bunch of people to write with. No one has had a bigger impact on my novel than these people. And there’s no one in the world who understands what I am trying to do better than these folks. Even if they don’t understand that ‘hammer’ lowercase, is a rank in my novel, and Hammer (capitalized) is a nickname. Bastards, all of you.
So, if you don’t have a writer’s group, get one (I think there’s a sale at Target). And if you live near Fairfield County, Connecticut, let me know. I’ll let you into mine. There’s only three requirements: 1. You are serious about your writing. 2. You are not an asshole. 3. You understand that hammer, lowercase, is a rank in my novel and Hammer, uppercase, is a nickname.