The importance of writer friendships

(In good times and bad)

Last week I spent a few days at a writing retreat in northern New Hampshire. The weather was mild, the mountain views were serene, and the creative energy was palpable.

I was between projects, so I didn’t write a ton on this trip. Instead, I spent most of my time thinking about a new book idea. Brainstorming. Daydreaming. Scribbling in my notebook. (This is a crucial step in my writing process, and I’ve spoken about it before here and here.)

Even though I know how crucial this step is, it’s sometimes hard to surrender to it when I’m at home. Spending two hours staring out a window can feel frivolous, maybe even wasteful, when a million household and family tasks are piling up around you. (Of course, it’s not wasteful. It’s important, that ideation phase, so very important. And it is absolutely work.) But take away all those distractions—drop yourself in the mountains on a writing retreat—and suddenly the work is the priority, and when the only item on the to-do list says ‘brainstorm,’ it’s shockingly easy to brainstorm. (Funny how that works.)

I made good progress on my new book idea, and I chatted with writer friends in the quiet moments between stretches of work.

On our last day of the retreat, about an hour before it was time to head home, I got a call from my agent… and nothing could have prepared me for what she shared. It was something I had not been anticipating or expecting. To be blunt, it was a “bad news” scenario that I didn’t even have on my author bingo card. I’ve never had it on my author bingo card, and I don’t know many authors who do. That’s how shocking and jarring it was.

I’m not going to talk about it today, because I’m still processing it, and honestly, it will likely make a better story in the future, when I can understand this roadblock in new light. (I’d also like to be able to talk about it without raw emotion involved. And I’m still pretty raw.) Plus, this post isn’t about this particular event, it’s about how I reacted to it. And here we are just a few short days later, and I’m already starting to feel grateful for certain things, like the fact that I was surrounded by writers when I received this unexpected news.

After I hung up, my friend Kendall Kulper let me sob on her shoulder, and then we climbed into my car and drove south together, talking about all the ways this career continues to test and challenge us over a decade in. How it is rarely fair. How publishing is not a meritocracy. How luck and timing effect everything. How we don’t quite know why we keep choosing this career when we have so little control, only that we love the writing (like, a stupid amount), and gosh, thank goodness we do because otherwise we’d be totally and completely miserable.

After I dropped Kendall at the bus station, I drove the rest of the way home and called two more friends who have been my rocks for the better part of my career—

Susan Dennard

and

Jodi Meadows

.¹ Both did what the best of writer friends do. They listened. They said, This sucks, I’m sorry, of course you’re feeling x/y/z. Then they asked what they could do to help, which was to just listen more, because what I needed in that moment was to vent and complain and strategize and vent some more.

Writer friends are so important. And I’m really glad I had some to lean on last week.

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The longer I’ve been doing this, the higher “find trusted writer friends” creeps on my “advice to new writers” list. Writer friends are crucial, but they are not necessarily an easy thing to find. It takes time to build friendships, there’s some trial and error (much like dating) as you connect with people, and then there’s the complicated reality that some friendships merely have seasons while others evolve and grow throughout a career.²

I consider myself friendly with many writers, but a trusted, true friend to a much smaller circle. A deep friendship requires a sort of mental and emotional presence that is nearly impossible to provide to a large number of humans. And in a field like publishing, the highs are incredibly high and the lows can be heartbreakingly low… and a friend may experience both a peak and a valley in the same weak.

It can be whiplash, this industry—both when it happens to us or when it happens to a friend—and like any meaningful relationship, friendship requires WORK. But it is work worth doing.

I firmly and whole-heartedly believe this.

To my newsletter readers who have already forged trusted writing friendships, I hope you continue to nurture them. They will be your lifeline at times. (If you haven’t yet found those trusted pals, I hope you find them soon.) And to my readers in other fields: friendships with peers who get the unique struggles and joys of your industry are priceless. I hope you have and/or find your people!

That’s all I’ve got for today.

Until next time,

Erin Bowman is the critically acclaimed author of numerous books for children and teens, including the Taken Trilogy, Vengeance Road, Retribution Rails, the Edgar Award-nominated Contagion duology, The Girl and the Witch’s Garden, and Dustborn. A web designer turned author, Erin has always been invested in telling stories—both visually and with words. Erin lives in New Hampshire with her husband and children.

1. Their newsletters are awesome; you can subscribe here and here.

2. I talk a bit more about building, finding, and maintaining writer friendships here and here.