I love to surround myself with creative people. The set of folks that I consider to be my friends are graphic designers, painters, DJs, musicians, fashion lovers, daydreamers … and yes, writers. But I’ve always had something of a mixed bag of reactions when it comes to being friends with other writers. I like the idea of it. I think that collaborating on written work can be a terrific experience. I also think that other writers are the only ones who can really, truly understand what it means to make your living as a writer. But I haev also found that the majority of friendships that I’ve had with writers didn’t ever really get off the page.
When I was younger, the majority of the friends I had who were writers were poets. I met them through open mic nights at local cafes and loved them because they wrote poems about loving me. We were all narcissistic then. I have mostly fond memories of the nights spent drinking bad coffee and inhaling second smoke around that group of people who played with words. I remember a thriving energy that pulsated amongst us, an appreciation for language that seemed universal and profound … But I can’t say that I was ever really close friends with any of them. We were self-absorbed and dealing with self-esteem issues. And even when we weren’t, we were inhaling the drama of the “poetic life” as often as the smoke. When the need for drama faded, the relationships became faded as well.
I have been friends with writers at other times, of course. A few of them have been actual in-person, meet-for-coffee, talk about writing and the rest of life kind of friends. And then the others have been those people who I’ve never met in person who pound out thoughts about writing on the keyboard and post them in blogs for all the world to see. These people have understood what it means to sit in front of a blank page and have no desire to write, to force words to string themselves together because you need the low pay of a job that you didn’t want anyway, to revel in the success of finally realizing that you have come to make a living as a writer … These are moments and things that only writers can share. But I’ve never been able to move comfortably in a group of writers with these as the only bonds.
I tend to find that other creative people are the ones I prefer to spend my time with. Not that I’d turn my head at the chance to make friends with a writer. But my inspiration seems to sparkle when kindled by those who dabble in arts I can’t excel at. I may not understand the unique situation of their artistic inclination … but that mystery lends to a common language of explaining our work to one anothe, an experience which broadens the relationship and lets creativity thrive. My closest friends are those who probably don’t even consider themselves creative. They aren’t in the typical creative “arts” careers and don’t visit galleries in their free time … but they approach life with interest and attention and spirit in a way that’s more creative than other people I have known.
[Tags] writing, networking, writer friends, friendship, creativity [/Tags]
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