Writers say it takes a village to write a book. Look at any acknowledgement or dedication page for evidence: This breed of introverted, solitude-craving, nose-in-a-novel, socially misfit authors is beholden to community—for inspiration, research help, revision suggestions, editing, publishing, marketing work, babysitting, cheerleading… Each individual’s creative act is invariably intertwined with many lives. Recognizing this keeps us grateful, and humble.
For the past twenty-five years, my acknowledgement pages have honored the four members of my writing group. They rescue me from embarrassment, push me to grow, hand me the titles I most need to read, notify me about publication opportunities, celebrate my launches, and with their steady collegiality keep me going. I’d be a lesser writer without them—and an unhappier person.
Because I’m so thankful, and because I want every writer to feel the support I’ve known, I’m perpetually bringing writers together. Spawning groups from classes, offering an evening of speed dating for writers, facilitating then launching groups, posting resources for feedback groups and contemplative writing circles, hosting the Eye of the Heart’s online writing community and writing group incubator sessions, and even keeping a spreadsheet of writers seeking other writers—I feel like village match-maker!
These days there’s a new urgency behind my impulse. The collapse of our civic and religious institutions and the rise of virtual reality have increased our isolation. To be healthy, to be resilient in the face of climate change and civil unrest, to uplift the creative spirit in a devastatingly automated society, we need one another. More than that: We need to remember that we are one another. My wellbeing is bound up in your wellbeing, and in our government’s, and in the earth’s. Desmond Tutu calls this ubuntu: “A person is a person through other persons… It is the opposite of ‘I think, therefore I am.’ Ubuntu means that my humanity is inextricably bound up in yours.” The philosopher Beatrice Bruteau calls it “communion consciousness.” We are community. It also takes a village to write a book because writers contain whole villages inside them.
What difference does having “communion consciousness” make? Participating in community becomes a practice. This is hard work; we have to show up, be vulnerable, invest time and money, move through conflict, connect across difference. Sometimes we need to make sacrifices. Always we need to open our hearts to community’s gifts. As we approach the new year, I invite you to make community a central part of your creative life. We’re more apt to change our lives, our writing, and our world if we do it together.
—Elizabeth Jarrett Andrew
Photo by “My Life Through A Lens” on Unsplash