Other writers: competitors or colleagues?

Writing is a solitary occupation. Most writers prefer to work on their own in a quiet room without interruptions from people, pets, phone calls and texts, or noises from the street. Such a peaceful environment is often unavailable, as I have been finding lately since having two mischievous foster kittens in the house.

Despite their wish for peace and solitude, writers do benefit from contact with the outside world in general, and with other writers in particular. But for a number of reasons they may not get very much. Members of most other professions can hardly avoid forming peer relationships whether through a shared workplace, a culture of teamwork, or requirements for continuing education and supervision. In contrast, writers seldom meet other writers unless they make the deliberate effort to join societies and groups, whether in person or online, and to attend events and courses. Many of them have introverted personalities and are not naturally drawn to social activities, perhaps viewing them as an added distraction from the serious business of writing. Also, they may regard themselves as in competition with each other for sales, or be wary of having their ideas stolen if they share them before publication.

Abuses can occur, but I think the benefits of contact with other writers outweigh the risks. Since making a serious commitment to fiction writing I have gained a lot through discussions in Linkedin groups, and occasional personal interchanges with the four other women writers in my circle of friends. We have reviewed each others’ manuscripts, exchanged tips about the self-publishing process, and provided encouragement when the going gets rough due to lack of inspiration, technical problems, or negative responses to our work. I have been meeting one of these friends, Jean, for coffee about once a month for several years, during which time both of us have self-published a number of books.  We met in Auckland, then discovered that we were brought up in the same English town, Gravesend in Kent, a few years apart; one of Jean’s books, Chalk Pits and Cherry Stonesgives a fascinating account of her wartime childhood there.

 

 

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