It's quite true, and from time to time, I need a little help. I can hardly remember a time when I
didn’t want to be a writer. I’ve been making up stories and worlds and
characters since I was very young. As a child, my imagination won me praise. I
constantly heard the words “clever,” “imaginative,” and “intelligent.” This
elated chorus gave me lots of confidence, but then something changed. Once I
reached junior high, the question of “what do you want to be when you grow up”
was asked very differently. It took on an oppressive sort of menace. Saying I
wanted to be a writer met with a frown. Some people were nice and would say,
“Oh, you mean you want to go into journalism?” I eventually gave up and just
started saying I wanted to study journalism and kept my real dream to myself.
I’d grown tired of people telling me I needed to live in the “real world” and
stop being “silly.” One very kind person told me the best way to become a
writer was to read and write as much as possible, so that’s what I did every
single day.
In high school, I soon became known
for my writing. I actually shocked people when I decided to obtain an
accounting degree in college. That didn’t last very long thanks to a group
project in my first pre-business class. I got placed in a group with three
unbelievable idiots. I looked into the future and imagined myself sitting in a
cubicle with these three guys around me. I changed my major to English, and
this decision eventually led me to teaching, which I adored and may one day
return to, but I realized something else that semester. I wanted someone to share
my dream with, and I don’t simply mean someone to talk about writing with me. I
wanted a writing partner.
I thought I would find one in
college. Three years in the B.A. program followed by two years to get my M.A.
yielded no one. Though surrounded by writers and literature lovers, I never
found that deep connection I craved. I eventually married a fellow English
major, but for him writing was a talent, not necessarily a passion. Also, our
writing styles are very different, so that didn’t work out either. I never
officially stopped looking, but I did stop hoping.
I began to meet more writers in
2006. I was still writing under my real name at that time, and as my publishing
credits increased I began to use online social networks to connect with other
writers. I loved talking to other writers about the creative process and how
e-publishing had begun changing the industry, but I still found myself
confronting that blank page alone. One friend online encouraged me to enter a
few contests, and we read each other’s work, but the conversations we had about
collaborating on a novel never led anywhere. Finally, in 2010, my dream came
true in a surprising way.
I usually steer clear of
role-players online because of a couple of very strange past experiences, but I
began talking to someone on Facebook who used the persona of a character from
one of my favorite television shows online instead of his real name and
picture. He wanted to maintain his privacy but still go online and gradually
connect with other writers, I later discovered. When he first connected with
me, I didn’t pay much attention to him. He was polite and sweet. He made me
laugh and never assumed “erotica author” meant “girl who will hook up with
anyone,” as many men online do. He read one of my stories from years ago and
sent me a comment about it. We began talking about writing then. He revealed
that he was actually a ghostwriter for a small company. So he spent all day
writing; almost every pamphlet, memo, and corporate decree from on high in this
company was actually written by him. I told him that sounded wonderful. He told
me that what I did sounded far more wonderful. I laughed at first because I
write romance and erotica, but he was quite serious.
My writing career had hit an
interesting transition at this point. My husband had nearly completed law
school. We were planning to move back to his hometown, which has a population
just over 30,000. We worried my husband’s practice and future aspirations of
entering politics or obtaining a judgeship in a small and fairly conservative
town might be hurt if everyone knew his wife wrote erotica. Maybe no one here
would ever care in the least, but we didn’t want to watch all of his hard work
go down the drain because of something we could easily avoid. So I revived the
pen name I had once used to write book and movie reviews and began the long
process of letting readers know I would soon be using a new name as well as
slowly getting that new name out there and rebuilding a following as I promoted
my old works and name less and less.
I had started final edits for the
first release under my new name when we began talking about my writing. I sent
him a copy of everything I’d ever published and could still get my hands on,
bombarding him with PDF files and scanned documents. I have no idea how he
found the time to read it all, but he obviously did because every comment he
sent me proved helpful and enlightening. I had a work-in-progress driving me
crazy at that time and sent it off to him for comment. The document came back
to me with both proof of his exceptional editing skills and dozens of comments
and suggestions. These comments, suggestions, and corrections were not attempts
to make me write like him; each and every one aimed at making my writing better. He took my work seriously, and he
understood how my mind worked more clearly than I ever imagined anyone could.
He judged my work based on the substance contained within, not the genre or
length or the size of my publishing house. He strove to help me make every work
the best it could be.
When my first collection came out
in December 2010, I dedicated it to him as a surprise. I could hardly believe
how stunned he was. I couldn’t stop laughing when he asked me why I did it.
He’s the shyest, most withdrawn person I have ever met, and I still have not
persuaded him to get much of his own work out there. However, his taking a
chance and opening up to me has brought me more joy than I could ever have
imagined. My dream came true, and I am happier and more fulfilled as a writer
than I ever have been before. I continue to dedicate all my works to him
because I know this is only the beginning of something wonderful.
All my gushing aside, not everyone
needs or wants a writing partner. Some people work best alone, especially
writers. I think it’s amazing when a writer can churn out blog posts, articles,
short stories, screenplays, and novels without a second pair of eyes or a voice
of reassurance. Having a writing partner was a dream for me, and it is a very
personal experience. Trust is key to this relationship. Both writers have to be
open-minded and ready to accept even the harshest truth or the partnership will
never reach its full potential. For anyone seeking a writing partner, there are
lots of options out there. Creative writing classes, post-graduate workshops,
and writer’s groups offer the best selection of serious writers, but tons of
resources exist online. Writers go to every type of social networking site to
connect, and there are even websites where writers can actively search for collaborators.
One of my friends found a partner at http://co-writers.com/ and so far she’s had only good things to
say about the relationship. My best advice to anyone seeking any kind of
working relationship with another writer is to do what is best for the work
itself. Anything less is a waste of time for everyone involved.
